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Song and Dream 












Copyright, 1922 

The STRATFORD CO., Publishers 

Boston, Mass. 

The Alpine Press, Boston, Mass., U. S. A. 

MAV I i 1922 



The author wishes to acknowledge the 
courtesy of the various publications in 
which most of the poems of this volume have 
previously appeared. 


For you I sing my little song 
Because I must, good friend; 
I might as well sing as I pass along 
For the cheer that it may lend; 
E 'er the fleet note turns 
Where the sunset burns 
And over the hill I bend. 

Dedicated to her 

who so faithfully travels with me 

this land of 

Song and Dream 



1. Songs and Dreams of Love 

2. Songs and Dreams of Life 

3. Songs of War 




Songs and Dreams of Love 

When You are Near 1 

The Little Clinging Bee 3 

Away from Home and You .... 4 

Spring 5 

Butterflies 6 

Lady May 8 

Leap Year 10 

Memories 11 

To Blanche 12 

Queen of the Hills 13 

Reverie 15 

The Ingle in the Cottage 16 

Thine Eyes 17 

To My Goldenrod 18 

To My Lady 19 

My Sweetheart 21 



Songs and Dreams op Life 

Caprice 27 

To Trinity 28 

"Babe Ruth" 33 

In Defense of Bill, the Bard . . . .34 

Beneath the Stars 38 

To William Francis Gill — Gentleman and 

Scholar 38 

Junetime on the Hills . . . . .43 

The Easter Hope 44 

The Fields of Home 46 

The Light of the World 48 

In Memory of Colonel George Washington 

Flowers 49 

The Easter Song ...... 52 

Christmas Night 53 

The Wealth of the Poor ..... 54 

The Winter Wind 55 

Toilers of the Dust . . ! . . 59 

To Mother 61 

When I Hear the Robin Sing . . . .65 
Ye Bards of Greece and Rome . . . .67 

Uncle Jack 68 

God's Mountains 70 



Music 71 

Another Page 72 

To Shakespeare 73 

Song and Dream 74 

To Little Routh 76 

The Hope that Dieth Not 79 

To the Library 82 

Our Little Tribe 83 

The Court Supreme 85 

The End of Day 86 

The Old Farm Home 88 

Non Omnis Moriar 92 

To Mamma 93 

Jes Keep Yer Heart Ready Fer T' Sing . . 96 

The Ancient Road 99 

Reproof 102 

In the New-Ground 104 

The Day That Is 107 

To Our Sweetgum Tree 109 

Reflection HO 

My Birthright HI 

To the Years 114 

A Moment of Rest 115 

In Memory of Everybody's Friend, "Marse 

Jim" 118 



Lowering of the Class Flag .... 121 

My Charge 124 

Now I Laj^ Me Down to Sleep .... 125 

Poppies 127 

Sabbath Bells 129 

Scribbling 131 

Thanksgiving 133 

To the New Moon 134 

The Larger Light 135 

The Campfires of the Angels .... 136 

To a Fallen Leaf 138 

Armenia 140 

Vesperi Lux 142 



Songs of War 

America 145 

A Nation's Prayer 146 

At the Fireside of the Nation .... 147 

To the Yanks in France 150 

Soldier Greeting 151 

To Our Boys Around the Campfires . . . 152 

To the Khaki-Clad 153 

Voices of the Christmas-Time .... 154 



To the Sons of France 

. 157 

Our Times Are In Thy Hands . 

. 158 

To the Men of the Golden Star . 

. 161 

Shadow and Song .... 

. 164 

How Hath the Mighty Fallen . 

. 166 

The Aftermath 

. 170 


. 172 


When You are Near 

UNDER my roof and by my fire 
I ne'er grow weary, never tire 
When yon are near. 
I wish the honr were a day 
And that the day might live alway 
My lady dear. 

You are the warmth of sunless days 
The quiet rest from weary ways 

That never end. 
The stars of night shine from your eyes. 
You are my rest from midday skies, 

My twilight friend. 

When through the halls I see you roam 
You turn the house into a home 

Wherein we live. 
When ends the day that seemed so long 
I love the lilt of your sweet song — 

The love you give. 



Like breath of dew that follows morn 
You follow me when I am gone 

From you away. 
Life 's incomplete, unfilled and lonely 
When I must go from you if only 

For a day. 

Then linger near while I am young 
And strike the golden chords you strung 

The day we wed. 
I crave no earthly gift or fame, 
Only to know you breathe my name 

When I am dead . 



The Little Clinging Bee 

OLET me sip the nectar 
Like the butterfly and bee, 
They from the rich red tulips, 

I from the lips of thee. 
The butterfly soon wearies 
And wanders carelessly, 
But I with quiet patience 
Would linger like the bee. 

And when like him I wander 

To the hillside or the glen, 
I find myself soon turning 

To my rich red rose again. 
The butterfly goes flirting 

With the flowers wild and free, 
But close to thee I'd nestle 

Like the little clinging bee. 



Away from Home and You 

OGOD shall guard the distance, dear, 
That now between us lies 
And shuts from me the warmth that fills 

Your ravishing blue eyes. 
While gentle stars are whispering 

My dreams of love to you, 
I fancy I can see the smile 
That o'er your dimples flew. 

I would I were the summer breeze 

That plays about your cheek. 
Or wand 'ring silver beam that steals 

Through half-closed lattice peek. 
But when the morning comes, my dear. 

And the earth smiles through the dew, 
My glad steps shall be turning, love, 

A-turning towards you. 




WARM zephyrs blow across the fields 
And violets and daffodils 
Leap up to feel the breath that steals 

Across the slowly-waking hills. 
The birds make love in every tree, 

The kine leap merry o'er the bars, 
The sunshine fills the day with glee 
And night kindles her brilliant stars. 




OTHB lovelight of her eyes 
Like the warmth of dreaming skies, 
And his red blood how it flies 

To and fro ! 
Keats and Byron seemeth dull 
And old Wordsworth such a pull 
When his heart's so raging full, 
As you know. 

When he sees her passing by 
With the grace of butterfly 
And a cunning sweet and shy 

Then he feels 
That naught else is worth the while 
If he miss the simple guile 
In the springtime of her smile 

That he steals. 

How dare her greet that mild-eyed fellow 
With a whisper, soft and mellow ! 
Ah, I hear him wildly bellow 
''Be it so!" 



All the violet of her eyes 
Looks as bleak as winter skies 
And his heart in madness cries, 
''Let her go!" 



Lady May 

THE merry Lady May doth spread 
Her soft umbrella o 'er the earth ; 
She brings a vast enticing shade, 
Soft music and a sylvan mirth. 

Her tender music wakes the heart 
To sunshine, then a shower of tears ; 

The sun peeps laughing through the clouds 
And pensive shadow disappears. 

I see a world of dew-bathed flowers 
Leap up to hear her silver strings; 

A listening silence fills the wood 

When Lady May comes out and sings. 

She leads her children out to play 
Beneath her soft and quiet sky 

Their youthful game of hide and seek, 
The bird and bee and butterfly. 



When twilight sings her brood to sleep 
And voices of the day are still, 

She signals out her sentinels, 
The firefly and the whip-poor-will. 

All earth is clad in green and gold 
And promise blooms along the way, 

And youth and love and beauty meet 
In Lady May, in Lady May. 



Leap Year 

(With apologies.) 

GATHER your sweethearts while you may 
Real men are still aflying, 
And girls who woo so hard today 
Tomorrow will be sighing. 




WHEN mem'ry's hall gleams all aglow 
With strange enchanting light 
And through the shadows of the years 

Come fancies, loved and bright, 
Methinks I hear songs sweet and clear, — 
The pleasant lays of other days. 

I strain the ear to catch the song 

Of long-forgotten melody — 
Glad voices coming home again ; 

How dear the realm of memory ! 
Sweet 'mid the bowers of evening hours 

The pleasant lays of other days. 

Ah, silence now ! a sacred voice 
Steals sweetly from the long ago; 

'Tis mother's song, God bless her heart. 
And keep her till at last I go! 

Her sweet songs rise to bless the skies, — 
The pleasant lays of other days. 



To Blanche 

MORE softly never breathed an autumn eve, 
The very fields were murmuring soft and 
A solemn hymn. No sounding wind did blow, 
But all was still. The sun did sweetly leave 
The world to you and me. Could earth conceive 
A happier, dearer eve ! A lingering glow 
Did spread the chill and vacant sky, and lo, 
All things seemed bowed in sacred prayer! I 

To think how brief that eve, with calm so deep, 
Wlien all my soul did feel the joyous thrill, 
And from your eyes I saw the gentle leap 
Of feeling kin to mine. The beauteous still 
Of evening soon did flicker down the deep 
Of night, and stars loomed up across the hill. 



Queen of the Hills 


GRACEFUL and affable, lady-like queen, 
Bedecking the earth with a radiant sheen, 
Sister of sunlight, quiet and fair, 
Loving the thrill of the September air; 
Robed in your garments of ancestral ease, 
Alert to the touch of the slumbersome breeze, 
All of the wealth of the summer sunshine 
Lives in your countenance, sweetly benign. 
You introduce summer, now going away. 
With all of her splendor, light-hearted and gay. 
To the dignified autumn, so pensive and sad. 
Dreaming of days that were happy and glad. 
The violet, daisy and am'rous woodbine 
Were all but the harbingers, heralds of thine; 
Down the highways of summer your coming 

they told, — 
Of your goodly dominion and the power you 
With meek, queenly grace you inherit the earth 



And speak in your silence of royal birth; 
You brought us the dream-skies of September 

And purple and garnet are painting your 
ways ; 
All the earth with a reverence your majesty 

When you come with September out over the 




'rinlS midnight, and the glamour of chill frost 
I Doth haunt the earth! The wintry 
leaves are still; 
Night-spirit broods about yon lonely hill; 
High in the night, fleece-clouds, like lone 
sheep lost, 
Drift through the blue, and towards the earth 
is tost 
A startled meteor's splintered flame. The 
The mystery of the splendid night doth fill 

My list'ning soul! silent yon heavenly host! 
Hushed are the jarring clamours of the day. 

Love wings the voiceless shadows of the night, 
And through the glimmer of the moon 's highway. 

In words akin unto the soft starlight 
Calleth for thee. And now I shut away 
This night, but thou dost linger in my sight. 



The Ingle in the Cottage 

THE winds are whimpering at the door 
And oft with sadden, angry rush 
Our peaceful talk they would ignore, 

Then listen with a softened hush. 
But let the winds blow on dear girl 

And wildly sweep the wintry snows, 
Let darkening clouds their depths unfurl 
So the ingle in the cottage glows. 

The world sweeps on with reckless tread 

And lovers come and lovers go, 
And by our fire we count the dead 

Who once were here and loved us so. 
Then let us love while love we may. 

While the leaping heart no sorrow knows, 
While the night winds sound their frantic fray 

And the ingle in the cottage glows. 



Thine Eyes 

AS THE waterbrooks and rivers 
Go a-singing to the sea, 
My thoughts are always turning, love, 

Are turning towards thee. 
As the birds turn toward the Southland 

Where the skies are warm and blue. 
So my heart is ever fleeting 

Toward the glad sunshine of you. 
As the needle seeks to wander 

Where the bright north star doth shine, 
So my life just keeps a-flitting 

Toward those star-like eyes of thine. 



To My Goldenrod 

FULL oft like some unthinking, lonesome 
I stray, and linger free about yon hill; 
I feel the breath of autumn growing chill. 
The cold, green pinewoods murmur wild and 

The daisies sleep, enwrapped with autumn 

shroud ; 
But you, bright goldenrod, are with me still. 
And when I scan the sombre fields, the thrill 
Of your meek countenance, unlike the proud 
And lustrous show of summer, leaps over me; 
And yet your stately motion in the breeze 
Doth give me thoughts of silent majesty; 
Your sweetly thoughtful mood and pensive ease 
Have won my heart; so on this hillside be 
My love; I'll love you more than neighboring 




To My Lady 

(On her birthday) 

UPON your breakfast plate I lay 
On this another glad birthday 
A clump of roses from your lad, 
And though I know he's mighty bad 
Just take the roses and be glad 
You didn't get a meaner lad. 

The velvet leaves of tender May 
Spread glorious shade along your way ; 
Just as the sunbeams kiss the dew 
A birthday kiss I give to you, 
And as you turn another page 
I promise not to speak your age. 

The longer. Lady, you may live, 
The more, my Lady, would I give. 
To catch the dimple in your cheek, 
To hear the glad word you can speak ; 
To feel the Swiss air of your laughter. 
See the bright glance coming after. 



And though your years may swiftly go 
Your heart can never older grow, 
For your bright smile must always stay 
Just as it is this glad May-day. 
Thus may no far-off after years 
Bring to you aught of bitter tears. 

Just take the flowers that I bring, 
My love and a kiss and the song I sing ; 
No other gift, however rare. 
Could tell you more of the love I bear ; 
For love doth light the paths I tread 
And love shall last when I am dead. 



My Sweetheart 

AH, WELL do I remember dear 
The day you stole into my life, 
Some patron spirit whispered clear 

''Look thou upon thy future wife." 
"With me that day I sensed the grail 

And be the haven near or far. 
Whatever seas my bark might sail 

You were the bright controlling star. 

The mem'ry seemeth as a flower 

When from the stage I heard you sing, 
And from that glad, uplifting hour 

I was in love with everything. 
I loved the place wherein you dwelt 

And all the streets you passed along, 
The air you breathed, the winds you felt,- 

You led me captive with your song. 

Soft organ chords rang in your voice. 
The sound of sweet Italian strings; 

Your laughter made my heart rejoice 
Like overflowing mountain springs. 



I saw upon your guileless cheek 

The glow of nature, sunkissed, fair, 

No hand-made beauty, nature freak. 
Only your dimples nestling there ; — 

Dimples that gathered like the nymphs 

Along a peaceful river shore 
Where flit the wary water imps 

Like frightened birdlet passing o 'er ; — 
Dimples that played like fleeting sprite 

At eventide beneath the moon 
"When sailing cloudlet dims the light 

To tell of laughter coming soon. 

The strength and beauty of the hills 

Shone peacefully within your eyes 
And in your countenance the thrills 

And splendor of Italian skies. 
So womanly, sweetly serene. 

Of Greek-like caste and stateliness, 
With quiet, calm, madonna mien, 

Simple and lady-like of dress. 

I saw the sweetheart in your eye. 
The mother in your tender heart, 

A helpmate in your sympathy 

And strong love in your simple art. 



Vain 'twere to say it could not be, 

You could not, should not, would not love ; 

My heart was anchored fast to thee 

And from its moorings could not move. 

In sweet contentment did I move 

'Mid dreams and fancies, work and play. 
With purpose set to win your love 

And hold you as my own some day. 
Nor time nor circumstance could change 

My strong resolve, whate'er betide. 
To chain your heart, however strange, 

And live forever at your side. 

Now hand in hand we go our way, 

With home and children, health and 
friends, — 
The blessed dreams of yesterday, — 

Where gladness reigns and love ascends. 
God bless the heart you gave to me 

With all its undivided love. 
And through the days that are to be 

May I a worthy lover prove. 




TWILIGHT spreads her dusky wings 
Each star in heaven its lantern swings 
The whip-poor-will enchanted sings 

But I am sad. 
The morning treads with softened hush 
The sun leaps forth with buoyant blush 
The trees are all with songs aflush 
And I am glad. 



To Trinity 

(My Alma Mater) 

WHAT mighty power that binds this 
gallant host! 
What mighty leader with unchallenged boast 
Leads ever on, triumphant in her move 
'Mid loyal hearts chained by her deathless love ! 
Like brave Joan of Arc, a pure, white soul 
Speeds ever on toward high and worthy goal. 
With eye so clear, fixed on her country fair 
Whose liberation doth her voice declare. 

Out o'er a thousand hills of rugged soil 
Have gone strong sons who love strong man- 
hood 's toil, — 
Proud sons, high-minded, unafraid and true, 
Who love thy motto, love thy royal blue. 
Marshalled along the highways of the earth 
Stalwart they stand, the soul of honest worth; 
And though they build their way to worthy fame 
They ne'er forget the magic of thy name. 


Down through the years thy matchless spirit 

Hath wept to see strong sons laid in the grave ; 
New generations rise to swell thy power 
And flood with life and light thy saddened hour. 
The earthly mother dies that sons may live, 
But here brave sons pass on that they may give 
To thee new life, new power and new zeal, 
New glory and new visions to reveal. 

And evermore young hearts shall gather here 
Amid thy shade serene, from year to year; 
When our cheers and yells no more shall ring 
And thy glad songs no more our lips shall sing, 
Still other tongues, and lips of younger days 
Shall give their yell and sing their evening lays ; 
Shall swear allegiance, plight their sacred vow 
To shield and love thee as we love thee now. 

Thus shall thy strong sons ever come and go, 
Glad as they see thy noble spirit grow; 
Glad but to add new laurels to thy brow 
And at thy shrine on bended knee to bow. 
Thus back to thee they'll come, glad just to 

A new song home, and hear their mother sing; 
A new book for their mother's sweet delight, 
A tale of mem'ries 'round her evening light. 


Some day when yonder flag is low at mast 
And sunset bell proclaims our day is past, 
Strong arms shall still uplift thee on thy way 
And generous sons shall bounteous homage pay. 
Thy way is long, and though we love and die 
Our faithfulness may coming strength supply; 
And though against thee storms break with their 

Watch thou the hills of everlasting light ! 

Therefore sail on, thou mother ship, sail on ! 
Thou sailest o'er an endless sea whereon 
There is no haven sweet, no peaceful port 
Where sails may furl beneath a guardian fort. 
Train thou young hands, and strong, to man thy 

To watch the guiding star and know thy keel, — 
Revering hearts, that love thy hallowed source. 
To steer thee on thy true and worthy course. 
So shalt thou lower, from thine uplifted deck 
Full many a bark, and send it out to fleck 
The busy sea, to land with resting oars 
A worthy cargo on the sunset shores. 

Trinity, brave heart, thou shalt live on 
When those who love thee now are dead and 



'Neath yonder sunlit dome the hoary sages 
Shall rest in sweet concourse through gathered 

ages ; 
A-trembling through the years thy massive bell 
With golden tongue stern duty 's charge shall tell, 
And from thy towering mast shall speak Old 

Where youth shall ever learn fair freedom's 

Thy stately walls of darkly mellowed gray 
With prideful mien shall guard a by-gone day, 
Where faithful men who shaped the sordid clay 
Touched it with fire that blazed a larger way. 
And through the verdure of thy hills of green 
A Launcelot shall ever meet his queen. 
At even, by the doorways, shall resound 
Staccato yells and songs of pensive sound, 
And through the sweet, full-blooded days of June 
Commencement bells shall chime their parting 

Thus shall tradition lead thee on thy way 
Until thy face shall beam through locks of gray. 

We gird thee now with ancient armor bright 
And charge thee to uphold the truth and right. 
Lose not the love that makes the mother heart 
Nor spurn the son who plays an humble part. 



Climb toward the light, nor grow too proud to 

So shalt thou walk the broad triumphal way ; 
For with a mighty power shalt thou be shod, 
When clad in armor of the mighty God ; 
And sweet deliv 'ranee shall thy warfare bring 
While generations shall thy triumph sing. 



"Babe Ruth** 

BABY RUTH, Baby Ruth, 
With your simple stick 
You hold the eyes of age and youth 

With your savage lick. 
Baby Ruth, Baby Ruth, 

With your cool hawkeye. 
Some day I hope you'll send, by gooth, 
A meteor to the sky. 

I know you love that friendly stick 

That greets whatever 's twirled; 
It helped you play the diamond trick 

That sent you round the world. 
Here 's to your health, your fame, your all ! 

Swat 'em whene'er you can; 
I wonder who can find the ball 

When you become a man ! 



In Defense of Bill, the Bard 

ELUSIVE BILL! They dub you Shak or 
And zounds! they say you were, or else were 

And that, forsooth, you lived by Avon river 
Or elsewhither; that other scribes did make 
Your virile lines. Go to ! let dolts forsake 
Such thick-eyed musings. Knaves of lily liver! 
A plague upon them, cowards ! God deliver 
Thee from hungry thieves! 'sblood; awake! 
Pismires beneath a rock-built mountain peak 
That nibble fern seed and, behold, away! 
Tut ! puke-stockings ! boots it naught to speak 
Amid such loud and bootless gabble play ; 
Let Amamon his direst vengeance wreak 
While all thy matchless creatures save the day. 

God's me! thy workshop was the wide demesne 
Of living things and dead. Sublimest souls 
Of earth and air assume their varied roles 
At thy command, and thine alone. Serene 



Thy rights while Falstaff sweats, and o'er the 

Doth trip Titania 's train, while fool cajoles 
A raging lord, or sweet Cordill consoles 
A king forlorn, and through the earth are seen 
Avenging ghost and sisters weird. Enough! 
Nor time nor place can claim thy quenchless 

Nor dead nor living man can filch the stuff 
Which thou hast moulded in the shape of men. 
Capitulate, ye rogues and villians rough, 
Ye ruffian band ! and tread not here, again. 




Beneath the Stars 

LONE I stand, with darkness closed about ! 
Through boundless realms of night my 
vision sweeps! 
Silent I stand, in ignorance and doubt! 

A new thought starts ! from wonder on it 
leaps ! 
Infinite Being, Infinite Time and Space, 

Whose mighty voice ten thousand spheres obey. 
How little need I hope e'er to embrace 

Of that broad domain which mine eyes survey ; 
I, who in silence dwell within a home, 

Of many, one, within the village bounds; 
The village one through which thel)reezes roam 
From Blue Ridge shim 'ring smoke to silent 
Sounds ! 
And when I think that e'en our stretching state 

Stands only one amid the kindred group. 
The group itself but one 'mid nations great 
That span our world, and on through stillness 
The depths of space ; and then the mighty world 
But one faint gleam of light that ever streams 



From countless spheres which rush with trem- 
bling whirl — 
One far-off ray 'mid universal gleams! 
Ah, when on this I dwell, the thought doth whip 
My being to nothingness. 

But sweet to know 
That in me dwelleth that which can outstrip 

Remotest flight of sense; whose eyes oft go 
Beyond the gleaming realms where starry sen- 
Forever keep their silent watch, and catch 
The joy of being. 



To William Francis Gill — Gentleman 
and Scholar 

SO QUIETLY hast thou slipped from our 
That each new morn we look for thee as did'st 
Each gathered class in yonder listening room. 
But ah, how soon did fall the hush of gloom 
Upon thy friends ! no more the master bell 
Shall call thee to the task thou did'st so well. 
Thy country's flag which thou did'st honor so 
Gathers her folds and bids us, weeping low. 
To pause and bring a flower to thy bier 
And to thy side the warmth of mem'ry's tear. 
A score of years through campus paths and halls 
We saw thee move, and memory recalls 
Thy manly step, thy gallant courtesy, 
Thy kindly smile and inborn honesty, 
Thy frank and friendly heart, fearless and true. 
Too big to cherish selfish ends, which knew 
The ways of royal kindness and did bear 
A gracious mercy and forgiveness rare, — 
A heart immune from age, unhurt by wrongs, 



That moulded blood which to a prince belongs, 
Yet all too tender e'er to give a wound 
To friend or stranger. None hath ever found 
Thy heart closed to a human need or call, 
But rather would thy generous heart give all. 
And even more. 

Thou hast taught well, good friend. 
And thy last laboured page was not the end ; 
Well did 'st thou love the friendship of thy book, 
But more of life dwelt in thy kindly look; 
In every toil thy youthful zeal did wake 
To glorify all thou did'st undertake. 
We scarce appraised thy sterling, manly worth 
E'er thou did'st close thy book and quit the 

It were unmeasured gift to feel and share 
The presence of a life so strong and fair. 
Sweet blessing to have toiled and talked with 

Whose life hath known such chaste, high com- 
As Vergil, with his fluent epic tongue. 
And Horace who with lyric beauty sung 
For thy delight ; and thou did 'st love and know 
The stately heart of grand old Cicero. 
How often hast thou followed Tacitus 



Or listened well to wise Lucretius; 

Keen Seneca did talk with thee and store 

Thy mind with serious and tragic lore 

Till thy friend Plautus, seeing thou wert sad, 

Would laughing come and bid thy heart be glad. 

Such were thy friends amid the templed hills 

Of fair Italia. 

So mem'ry fills 
The hour with silent grief and speechless pain 
That none shall know thy comradeship again. 
We miss thy courtly mien, the youthful eye, 
Thy bounding fellowship and honor high. 
Thou wert a man, a gentleman, and none 
E 'er knew thee but to love ; a noble son, 
True to a worthy name, a father's pride. 
Faithful to home did'st thou always abide. 
None loved his friends with prouder love or zeal 
Or laboured more to serve their wish and weal. 
The old boys of thy happy college days 
Hold thee in dear esteem; thy manly ways. 
Upright and clean, are mem'ry's treasured gift. 
To those of younger days thou did'st uplift 
The cordial teacher heart, the scholar's fame, — 
True reverence, the worth of wisdom's name. 
And little children felt, at sight of thee, 
A kinship in thy cheer and sympathy. 



Thy heart humane did 'st know and love full well 
The dog and horse ; though speechless could they 

To thee their tale of injury or woe ; 
Intuitively did'st thou feel and know 
Their thoughts and needs, and lavishly bestow 
Thy praise and providence, did'st ever throw 
About their life a friendly hand and word 
They understood, and answered when they heard. 
Thy petted steed loved well his gentle friend 
And happy did he seem could he but spend 
An evening out with thee. Poor speechless 

With none to know his language or to bring 
His master home! 

The master heart hath fled. 
His latin tongue is still, the master dead ! 
The voice that made thy little home is stilled. 
The cherished dream of love lies unfulfilled; 
About thy home doth mourn the nestling pine 
And crave in vain the homeward step of thine. 
Too soon thou goest to thy well-earned rest 
And leavest all the pathways thou hast blessed. 
Rest on ! deep in the wildwood shalt thou dwell 
'Mid sunshine and the birds thou loved 'st well. 
Thy Master kind hath led thee to thy sleep, 



But in our lives thy name is planted deep; 
Thy mother college raises o'er thy grave 
For all the fond devotion which you gave 
The mother words, ''Here lies an honored son 
He laboured well, his faithful work is done.'' 



Junetime on the Hills 

THE heavy dew lies on the vale, 
The breath of summer steals 
Along the shadowed woodland slopes 

And out across the wealds. 
The blackberry is clad in bloom, 

The mockingbird with trills 
Is caroling to all the world 
" 'Tis Junetime on the hills." 

wake and feel the boundless charm 

That cometh with the morn. 
Where dew-kissed flowers bow and smile 

And peace broods o'er the com. 
The cowbells tinkle down the vale. 

The world with music fills. 
And every creature spreads the news 

Of Junetime on the hills. 



The Easter Hope 

SEPULCHRAL darkness hid the sun, 
Rent was the temple veil; 
It seemed that ancient death had won 

And prophecy must fail. 
shattered band of faithful hearts, 

bruised hopes forlorn! 
The glory of the earth departs, 
The light of heaven gone. 

Pierced were His hands, His feet. His side. 

Ten thousand times His heart, 
To see Jerusalem deride. 

To feel the traitor's dart. 
Well might the skies in darkness frown 

On that dread day of gloom. 
Well might the mountains stagger down 

And seal man's earthly doom. 

* ' Forgive them, Father, for they know 

Not what they do, ' ' He said ; 
Thus did the Prince of Heaven go 

The way of all the dead. 



shameful cross of Calvary, 

mad Jerusalem; 
craven court of mockery 

And rabble vile and grim! 

Silent within the rock-built tomb 

The Prince of Heaven lay, 
And barred and sealed that dismal room. 

Stern Romans guard the way. 
Must earthly life lose all its charms, 

The soul its sweet belief. 
Nor Moses, Prophets, nor the Psalms 

Could heal the spirit's grief? 

Forth from behind those darkened hills 

Sprang everlasting light; 
Eternal hope forever fills 

The gloom of yesternight. 
glorious dawn of Easter morn 

Bewildered world to free, 
Where faithful devotees, earthwom, 

Find immortality. 



The Fields of Home 

O YOUNG- and bright and happy, gladsome 
Could I call back your sunny, care-free ways 
And live again those full and timeless hours 
That ended 'mid the hush of evening bowers 
So cool and peaceful, sweetened with the dew 
And woodland song that only nighttime knew ! 
Could I look out and see the great moon rise 
And marvel how she climbed the stepless skies, 
And dream again those fair dreams of my youth 
And revel in the beauty of a truth 
New-born and wondrous, where a widening world 
Each day new glory and new dreams unfurled! 
stern and serious Time loose thou the cords 
And turn me back with kind assuring words 
To those fair days again and let me be 
A wand'rer through those fields so fair and free. 
Where breath of clover rode upon the breeze 
And busy songbirds tenanted the trees; 
Where jolly playmates coming up the lane 
Would greet me with a joy almost profane, 



And climbing o'er the treach'rous old rail fence 
Would join me with a satisfying sense 
Of well-earned leisure! 

Onward would we, stroll 
'er ditch and bramble, on through wooded knoll 
And down the shadowed hillside to the creek 
So filled with every creature shy and sleek; 
Where all the livelong day no thought of time 
Could hurry our young feet from mud and slime ; 
Till nightfall and the thought of storied witch 
Would drive us back o'er bramble and o'er ditch 
To where the home lights beckoned o'er the hill, 
And the home call of the dear old whip-poor-will 
Would bring us all with boyish appetite 
To suppertime and stories of the night. 

Father Time, I pray thee let me roam 

Back to the fields and friends of that dear home 
And hear those voices, feel the boyish thrill 

1 knew in that dear home upon the hill ! 



The Light of the World 

OGOD of all the heaven and earth 
Look down on us tonight 
And point us to that manger birth 

Where shines a holy light! 
Let not our feet forget the way 

Believing shepherds trod, 
But follow till the dawn of day 
The light that leads to God. 



In Memory 


Colonel George Washington Flowers 

SON of the South, and lover of his land, 
Who led her stalwart sons with brave com- 
And cast away the after-sting of hate, — 
A patriarch in home, in church, in state, 
To all of which high honor did he bear 
And blessed them with a record high and fair, — 
Nobility was moulded on his brow. 
His manly voice doth call us even now 
To things of high estate. Like some great oak 
That towers on a hill where lightnings broke 
To find it unafraid, unmoved, unshorn. 
When stormy night had brought the quiet 
morn, — 
On such a summit did his figure stand, 
A sturdy watchguard o'er his chosen land. 
Amid the councils of his fellowman 
Erect and stalwart vigil who could scan 



The smooth and devious ways of bribe and whip 
Yet walk the bleak highways of statesmanship. 
To him the world was ever young and he 
Was young of heart ; his cheek bore blushingly 
The cherry-stain of youth. He loved us all, 
Our running-track, our tennis and our ball. 
Lover of all our sports, our faithful friend 
And steadfast patron, watching to the end 
The fall or rise of chances in the game 
And ever jealous for our luck or fame. 

With manner gracious, chaste of tongue, sin- 
With upright guarded step that knew no fear. 
He gave us silent lectures as he passed 
And lived for us the finer things that last. 
Such princely life, to those who bear his name 
Is rich inheritance and honored fame. 
The city felt a pride, a sense of wealth. 
Uplifting ownership and rugged health 
To have his manly presence on her street 
To move where citizen and stranger meet; 
'Twas strength and courage to our rising youth 
To see him walk the ways of simple truth. 

On Sabbath morn our faith grew strong the 

We watched him pass adown the temple aisle. 



Thus was his life high-minded and serene, 

Of pleasant courtliness and quiet mien; 
A colonel of the olden time was he 
With gentle and commanding gallantry. 

Such might our generation seek to be 

In naked worth and fine simplicity. 

Most worthy nobleman, whose loyalty, whose 

Whose willing helpfulness will ever move 
Our hearts to feel the debt for such as he 
And bear his life in gracious memory ! 

Think not he walks no more these pleasant ways 

Forgotten to the men of coming days, 
For memory hath chiseled with her knife 
A living, moving statue of his life. 



The Easter Song 

AH, FORWARD to this glorious morn 
Looked dreary ages long 
To catch the vision, heavenborn, 

And hear the Easter song! 
Prophetic were the hopes that swelled 

The yearning breast of man, 
For through the far years he beheld 
What faith alone could span. 

Now backward to that hallowed morn 

The countless millons turn 
To catch the echoes that were born 

Where tear-stained raptures burn. 
Let all the hearts that fill the earth 

Join with that countless throng 
And hail the day that brought the birth 

Of hope's glad Eastern song! 



Christmas Night 

O HAPPY, holy hallowed night 
So dear to all the earth, 
Whose memories grow ever bright 

Of that world-centered birth! 
How every glad heart strangely bnrns 

Beneath thy star-built light, 
When the far-spent year in rapture turns 
To Christmas Night! 

Light all the earth, eastern star, 

Live on, angel song! 
Let vvise men journey from afar 

In ever widening throng. 
Beyond earth's gladsome Christmas tree. 

Children of wild delight. 
Behold the Gift to you and me 

On Christmas Night! 



The Wealth of the Poor 

THIS is thy world. The, meadows green, 
Triumphant song of bird, 
The morning fields in dewy sheen, 

The hills that clouds begird; 
The stars that run an ancient round 

That poets loved and left, 
Shall be thy wealth, serene, unbound, — 
man of hope bereft! 

The winds, and ocean's endless lash. 

The clouds that o'er thee fly. 
The thunders, born of lightning's flash — 

The land, the sea, the sky; 
These are thine own unwearying wealth. 

The thrill of each new day. 
The gift no hand shall seize by stealth. 

No law can take away. 



The Winter Wind 

WHO Cometh here, thou vandal bold, 
Ice-hearted, ruthless, bleak and cold, 
From yonder northern ice-built throne 
To claim so lightly as thine own 
The lovely things that summer knew 
And all she heired from springtime too ! 
You drove the songbirds from the fields 
And seized the breath the flower yields, 
You hushed the music of the stream 
And broke the peace of autumn dream; 
The honey-bee and butterfly 
In terror fled when you came nigh; 
The leaves all fluttered through the wood 
And hid from thee as best they could; 
The summer clouds float drear and dry 
When thy dread form goes stalking by. 
The countenance of lake and pond 
Grew stonelike 'neath thy waving wand; 
You lock the rivers and the bays 
And send the ships through distant ways ; 
The mossy banks of ditch and road 
Reared icy fingers as you strode 



O'er copse and glen and fern-clad dell, 
And marred their life with your dire spell ; 

And heaven 's eyes glint cold and blue 

And gaze afar with awe at you. 
You sent Jack Frost as secret spy 
To tell you where our treasures lie ; 

'Tis thy delight to shriek and roar 

And hear the children slam the door ; 
The pine trees murmur at thy voice, 
There's not a cricket to rejoice. 

The whole world shudders at thy sound ; 

Thy cold tread freezes all the ground. 
What bold intrigue dost thou forswear 
To leave thy frigid, ice-bound lair 

And stalk the highways of our land 

To smite us with thy tyrant hand ? 

So spake the child. The wind replied. 

When he had heard, and gently sighed: 
''You do me wrong, my hasty child, 
For though I come from regions wild 

I am thy friend, I bring no harm; 

Though cold, I bring a heart that's warm. 
I am the king of cheer and health 
And own the store of winter wealth. 



I drive away the scorching heat 
Aiicl bring new strength to weary feet ; 
I paint the earth with glist'ning snow 
And hang the ice-lace as I go; 
I give the sky the glowing red 
And chant night-songs about your bed ; 
I build a fire in every home 
And give the night its ruddy gloam; 
I bring the popcorn, nuts and fruit, 
The voice of violin and flute 
Around the happy evening fires, 
And stories of the old grandsires ; 
I bring glad laughter as I pass 
And warm the hearts of lad and lass; 
The mistletoe and Christmas-tree 
And yuletide lights all come with me. 
I put wild joy and glad surprise 
Into the little children's eyes; 
I send the sleighbells o'er the hills 
And bring the stockings Santa fills. 
The candy-stew and quilting-bee 
And merry crowds all follow me." 

' ' pardon, sir, ' ' the young voice said ; 
''In truth, kind sir, I am afraid 



I saw you with unseeing eyes; 

You walk the earth in fine disguise; 
Henceforth your goodness I shall sing 
In praises worthy of a king ; 

Your ice-clad heart is warm and kind, 

Long live my friend, the winter wind." 



Toilers of the Dust 

10 OK up, look up, ye swarthy men, 
J Ye grinders of the dust, 
With eyes lured by the siren earth, 
Forgetful of your nobler birth; 
Look up to yonder hills! 

Stand up, man, and lift thine eyes, 
Be still and lend thine ears! 
The birds are caroling the morn. 
The green is passing from the corn ; 
Hie then unto the hills. 

Why seek alone the taste of bread. 
What ails thine appetite? 
Why trail the dust and count the cost 
While near thee stand forever lost 
Majestic, cloud-built hills? 

Come sing a song and dream a dream, 
Away with earthward care ! 
Insensible to whispering skies. 
The sunset's passing from thine eyes 
Over the burning hills. 



Let no low-hanging evening star 
Nor foot-tread of the dew 
Elude thy list'ning, quiv'ring string; 
Shut from thy soul no beauteous thing 
Watch thou upon the hills. 

men who burn the hurried flame, 
Lured by the lucre lust, 
Go take the poisoning gold of thine, 
Go fling it to the chastening Rhine 
And mount God's virgin hills. 

Ye men who tent the silent heights, 
Who ken the sweeping worlds, 
Call out to those who toil and must 
To lift their vision from the dust 
And look unto the hills! 



To Mother 

SWEET tender watcher of our younger days 
And faithful guardian of our far-spent 
Thou gentle mother soul, why hast thou fled ? 
Dear heart, we scarce can feel that thou art dead, 
So close to us thy vigil, angel eyes. 
Thou seemest not in God's far-distant skies. 
But still dost follow, lookest to our needs ; 
The hungry heart still harkens back and feeds 
Upon those precious years. As morning dews 
Upon a thirsty sod, our life renews 
Its lilt and hope with memory of thee 
While thou did'st share this brief mortality. 
Still can we hear, from those far-distant days 
The sleep-lull of the crib and happy lays, 
The foot-tread through the dimly-burning light 
To add a quilt on cold December night; 
If in the dark did'st hear the childish cry 
'Twas thy dear hand that lulled the frightened 
And if thj^ little one, sleepless or sick 



Should breathe thy name, watchful and quick 
Did'st thou bend o'er the little crib again 
To lift thy precious one and soothe the pain. 
In boyhood days 'twas still thy tireless hand 
That healed the bruise or stitched the tazzled 

With mother pride you wrapped the lunch for 

Kissed us and bade us break no golden rule ; 
Through ripening years thy love and counsel 

Gave us a heart our daily tasks to meet. 
When years had fled and all thine own had left 
The mother home and mother heart bereft, — 
Still could we hear, through shadows of the night 
The lullaby that kept youth 's paths so bright. 

Could we but know, when all the earth is glad 
How soon the heart must bleed, forlorn and sad. 
For those who journeyed with us side by side. 
And e'er the journey's end grew faint and died ! 
Could we but hear those far-off bells and know 
That dear ones soon should hear the call and go 
To join the music of a distant shore 
And journey with their comrades nevermore. 
How we should cherish every sacred hour 
And bind our friendships with a deathless power 



Of sweet communion, sympathy and love 
Akin to that which angels know above! 
mother heart, you gave unto the world 
Its love and tenderness, and hast unfurled 
Its mysteries of Godly sacrifice! 
By simple trust, and by thy sweet device 
Thou hast lent everywhere unto the eartli 
A lasting glory and a sacred worth. 
Upon a white peak, with thy teardrops wet, 
A fountain of forgiveness thou hast set; 
And every sister, every manly brother 
Adores the life or memory of mother. 
Thou art the dearest gift of this brief life. 
The shrine of every husband, every wife ; 
In wisdom's place, or on the savage tongue 
Immortal tribute to thy name is sung. 
Brave chivalry, and manly courtesy 
Leap forth in noble pride at sound of thee ; 
High reverence and sweet humility 
Were born with thee, and our nobility. 
You gave the world its hope, its faith, its song. 
And all its sacred prayers to thee belong. 
Where 'er the angel hand of mother comes 
She blesses man and fills the earth with homes. 
Ah, hallowed home ! how shines its radiant 



So clustered with the best the world hath known ! 
And in the world the task to her is given 
To cradle it and rear it close to heaven. 

So ever thus we bless thy sacred name 
And add our tribute to thy dauntless fame ; 
And though in bitter tears you left us here 
To spend our days without you, mother dear, 
Our lives shall bear the impress of your blessing, 
The comfort of your mother arms caressing ; 
And through the quiet of your trusting way 
We catch the vision of the toming day. 



When I Hear the Robin Sing 

OI'M glad to see the robin 
With high head and fleetsome wing 
O'er the upturned new-ground bobbin' 

As if looking for the spring ! 
His cheery voice breathes animation 
And there's sunshine on his breast 
As he roams the whole plantation 
With an old friend's eager zest. 

O'er the hills the fields are smoking 

Where the war-god's winds go by ; 
Along the marsh the frogs are croaking 

And I know that spring is nigh ; 
For the violet is peeping 

At the winter frost, so shy, 
And the crocus heads are leaping 

Towards the springtime of the sky. 

On sunny slopes the plant-beds glisten 
And the earth yields to the plow; 

Anxiously I stand and listen 
With a yearning on my brow ; 



For my heart with hope is flushing 

As I hear the robin sing 
Where the maple trees are blushing 

'Neath the maiden touch of spring. 

its long since last we parted 

In the chill October days, 
When with shrill, wild note you started 

Towards the warmth of southern ways ; 
And I'm glad the fields are burning 
And the insect finds his wing, 
For I know the north wind's turning 

When I hear the Robin sing. 



Ye Bards of Greece and Rome 

SPIRITS of a glorious age and art, 
Majestic on yon ancient heights you stand ! 
Enduring admiration ye command, 
The zeal of every eager, longing heart. 
Unto the ages did your souls impart 
A vision splendid and a promise grand. 
But lo ! forgotten is your beauteous land, 
Unsung your songs within the busy mart. 
Be patient, ye men of changeless worth ! 
Until our age can fell its forests fair ; 
With garnered grain can store the ports of earth 
And start its winged monsters of the air. 
And surfeited, another age's birth 
Shall dravv^ the veil, and glory shall ye wear. 



Uncle Jack 

(For long years a faithful college janitor) 

DEAR to the heart of Trinity 
Was Uncle Jack; 
Soul of fine fidelity 

Though he was black. 
With loyal heart, devoted, true, 
He did his tasks as heroes do 
And made a friend of all who knew 
This good old man. 

He taught us what we strive to find 

In learned halls, — 
A stalwart faith, a fear that's blind 

When duty calls. 
He has built a manly fame, 
Lived a life that knew no blame ; 
Generations love the name 

Of Uncle Jack. 



He walked in plain humility 

With grateful heart; 
With courteous gentility 

He played his part. 
Rugged pattern of the brave, 
High devotedness he gave; 
A noble man doth fill the grave 

Of Uncle Jack. 



God's Mountains 

MADE in Thine own great matchless way, 
Thy pond'rous thoughts of yesterday, 
Thy vulcan hand did pile them high 
Until they whispered to the sky. 
Fearless and bold they lift their head, 
Calm, unafraid of lightning ^s dread, 
Peak list'ning to peak in peace sublime. 
Forgetful of distance and heedless of time , 
Slow, desert-like caravan in far-away haze 
Trailing a pathway so ancient of days. 
Rising and bending in unending tramp. 
Lifting the stars for their twilight lamp ; 
Mute monsters from ages primeval, and proud 
That they bulwark the sea and cradle the cloud ; 
Immovable sentinels guarding the earth 
And dreaming of ages that brought them to 

Communing with heaven yet one with the sod, 
Akin to the earth and yet living with God. 




1H0PE when all our songs are ended here 
And silent stand the halls and templed 

choirs ; 
When trembling dies the breath of earthly lyres 
That often brought the full, unbidden tear ; 
Yvlien all the tongues that kept the old earth glad 
And kept her pathways carefree and so bright 
Through toilsome days and through the darksome 

And brought sweet solace where the heart was 

sad; — 
I hope w^hen music shall have quit the earth. 
Her last sweet dying notes by angels borne 
Shall echo back to that glad primal morn 
Where music 'mid the angels had her birth. 



Another Page 

THOU patient Watcher of the buried years 
And of the 3^ears to be ; who see 'st the rage 
And tumult of a fierce and furious age, 
Forgive our haste, forgive our trembling fears ! 
With childlike grief and bitterness of tears 
We ask Thee for a new, an unstained page. 
Let naught but records high henceforth engage 
Our fateful pen; give us the faith that rears 
Our little lives to mountain lands, that throws 
A grandeur o'er the task we do, and lifts 
Above the thorn the glory of the rose; 
That through the shadows sees the hopeful rifts 
That patience in her labored waiting knows 
When last she comes with all her gleaming gifts. 



To Shakespeare 

AGAIN returns the month that saw you go, 
The fairy month of greensward and bright 

Where nymphs and fairies chase these hearts of 

Through shaded dells where scented blossoms 

With master heart and genius thou did'st show 
Unto the world the fine and subtle powers 
Of laughter, song and merry jest. But lo ! 
No more they feel the health of fairy hours. 
Thou denizen of every age and tongue, 
Bring back thy train of creatures, fancy-born, 
And make our frenzied hearts cheerful and 

Forgetful of their cursed cares, ageworn ! 
Eternal youth dwells where thy creatures sung 
And on thy green care's grimy locks are shorn. 



Song and Dream 

'rj^IS not the power of might and brawn 

I That shapes the plastic earth, 
But ye who sing and ye who dream 

Shall see creation's birth. 
The light that spreads o'er all the world 

Springs from your tuneful breath, 
And surging through a mystic past 

Your tongue shall fear no death. 
Ye hold the music of the stars, — 

Sing on ! sing on ! and dream ! 

The portals of the universe 

Rise from your subtle power 
And leap to beauty as the night 

Builds silently the flower. 
Your tongues have caught immortal strains, 

Your souls have touched a chord; 
tuneful tongues, vibrant souls. 

Lose not thy golden word ! 
Silence no rapturous bar or rhyme, — 

Sing on! sing on! and dream! 



Ye souls who lift the world with song 

And keep it young with dream, 
Who strike the harps of melody 

And trail the holy gleam, 
Sweep forth as some vast organ strain 

Across the strings of time; 
Exalt the earth with hallowed breath 

Of music and of rhyme. 
Ye bring the angels close to man, — 

Sing on ! sing on ! and dream ! 

Far in the dark beginnings vast. 

Gigantic, shapeless, still. 
It was the dream of Alpha, — 

The ocean, sky and hill. 
The psalm of God, the dream of life 

Leapt out across the world 
And angels sang when they beheld 

The glory there unfurled. 
son of dreams ! child of song ! 

Dream on! dream on! and sing. 



To Little Routh 

SHE'S gone, and even mother's plea 
Can never bring her back 
From out God's great eternity 
So distant and so black! 

dimpled cheek and dimpled arm ! 

childish, trusting eye ! 
Could even Monster Death do harm 

When little children cry? 

And yet she cried, and Death did seize 

My child, so lily-pure; 
Nor all the strength of earth could ease 

The pain she must endure. 

helpless earth ! shameless Death ! 

When little children cry 
And lift their little hands for breath. 

And helpless, have to die ! 

The anguish of a mother's heart, 
A father's speechless pain, — 

To see a clinging child depart, 
And love 's endurance vain ! 


When by my study fire at night 
I watch the flames and dream, 

I see her in the evening light 
A sweet angelic gleam. 

I loved to watch the wild delight 
Flash from those baby eyes 

Whene 'er she caught the glorious sight 
Of open doors and skies. 

She loved her little hat and cloak 
The great outdoors and flowers, 

And all the little words she spoke 
Were treasured pearls of ours. 

The little clothes are laid away 
All made by mother's hand, 

And little brother has to play 
Along the lonely sand. 

Somewhere amid the silent stars 

Her baby spirit rose, 
And we are left behind the bars 

With grief God only knows. 

could I call her back to earth 

Not for my baby's sake, 
But for the hearts that miss the mirth 

That baby used to make. 



Could we but know, could we but love 
As our poor hearts have yearned, 

Ere to that spirit land above 
Our precious ones have turned ! 

Life's happy half was spent in dreams 

Of happy days to be. 
When joy looks out and gladness seems 

As endless as the sea. 

Life's sadder half then leads us back 

To dwell in memory, 
And then into that erstwhile track 

To God's eternity. 

But there I hope to clasp my child ; 

I must, 'twould not be heaven 
Could not this ceaseless longing wild 

Such comfort there be given. 



The Hope that Dieth Not 

rr^ HERE must be a land where a joyous toil 
_J_ Waits the touch of the tireless hand, 
Where the flowers of earth in a heavenly soil 
Shall hallow that glorified land; 
Where thorn groweth not and the tares never 
spoil — 
For we toil and we toil and we toil. 

beautiful land of a fadeless dream 

That hath lighted the pathway of man 

And beckoned him on with a gladdening gleam 

That encircled his earthly span ! 

It must be even as it doth seem — 

For we dream and we dream and we dream. 

musical land of an endless song, 
Of a chord never lost to the world, 
Whose notes ever sound as a mammoth world 

And on through the ages are hurled ! 
There must be a heaven to which we cling — 
For we sing and we sing and we sing. 



There must be a land where our hope cometh 

Where the lights everlasting are burning ; 
Where we come within reach of the grail we 

For which human hearts have been yearning; 
There must be a light 'yond the dark path we 

grope — 
For we hope and we hope and we hope. 

There must be a land of unfaltering love 
Where the heart is as true as the stars ; 
Where a merciful balm shall forever remove 
From the bosom its wounds and its scars; 
Where an infinite love rules the blue sky above — 
For we love and we love and we love. 

Beyond the far-distant horizon way, 
Beyond our earth sight and earth ken. 
There must be a land with a glorious day 
And the white angels singing ''Amen;" 
There must be a land where the great God doth 
stay — 
For we pray and we pray and we pray. 

There must be a land where the good never die, 
Where sin never calls us to save; 



Where the heart never fills with a sorrowful 

sigh, — 
A land never scarred with a grave. 
There must be a land where no death cometh 

nigh — 

For we die and we die and we die. 



To the Library 

SET for the years, with sturdy, stately mien. 
Thou lookest out upon our nation 's life 
And seemeth glad that 'gainst the blightful 

Of ignorance thou can'st toil, silent, serene. 
Amid the culture of thy large demesne 
Lift thou the growing mind to regions rife 
With universal truth. With heartless knife 
Prune thou the clinging shackles and make clean 
Our thought; but let not wrinkled knowledge 

Appreciation's glow. Unto the mind 
New beauty wake ; let human thought grow still 
The bolder; build ambition large; but bind 
High knowledge to a childlike heart that will 
Revere almighty God and love mankind. 



Our Little Tribe 

TWO little girls and one little boy 
Make our life a round of joy, 
Thirteen and eight and six were they 
When they passed the last birthday. 
Four little lives to us were given, 
But one day God took one to heaven. 
Our hearts were then weighed down with sorrow 
And each day brought a sad tomorrow. 

As days passed by God gave us power 

To bear the pain of such an hour. 

With violet, buttercup and rose 

We walked the path where sorrow goes 

To that little spot upon the hill 

Where teardrops bathe the daffodil, 

And there with tender thoughts and flowers 

We lived again her childish hours. 

But God and these are left us still. 
And she that sleeps upon the hill 
Hath bound us all in stronger tie 
Because God took her to the sky. 



Dear little hearts of childish ways, 

Stars of our nights, light of our days, 

With skates and wheels and dolls and toys 

To fill your hours with tireless joys, 

We join you in your wild delight 

And back to childhood days so bright 

We fly the kite and toss the, ball 

And hear those childish voices call — 

Ah ! only three call us from nigh, 

The other calls us to the sky. 



The Court Supreme 

FULL oft the soul, oppressed, doth pant and 
For reign of justice, order and the right, 
As seen and known in heaven's unerring light. 
Full oft the sad and wearied eye would turn 
From warped and fettered courts of men, and 

Their sordid judgment and their selfish sight. 
But thou, God, dost stand with matchless 

Behind man's blinded judgment, dost discern 
The far-hid motive's birth. joy that thou 
Dost justice love ! One wrong forgot would crash 
Thy universe. No thunderbolt need plough 
The earth to make thy justice known; the flash 
Of heaven doth come with every inward vow. 
Or bitter blight, the sting, the hellish lash. 



The End of Day 

OTHE thousands we meet in the hurrying 
Have something within the heart 
That lightens the load 
On the toil-trodden road 
And whispers a better part! 

I know not where the hard burdens they bear 
Will rest when the night comes on! 
But away from the street 
There's a refuge sweet 
When the thoughts of the day are gone. 

It may be a roof from the wide world aloof, 
A cot and a fire called home; 
But it shuts out the pain 
And the grim thought of gain 
' And the glare of the vaunted dome. 



There may be some friend at the journey's end 
That quickens the homeward trail, 
That throws a glad light 
Down the dark of the night 
And a heart that shall never fail. 

It may be the mild tender heart of a child, 
Or the love of a brave, dear wife. 

That hallows the way 

Of a hard-fought day 
With the smile of a patient life. 

It may be a place just to bury the face, 
A plain but a dear old chair. 

With a bit of green sod 

And the sweet voice of God 
Through the still of a lonely prayer. 

the life of a sigh where the fond hopes die 
And despair and dead dreams stay, 
Shall see the home light 
'Mid the hush of the night 
Akindling the end of day ! 



The Old Farm Home 

FAR yonder where the dark-top pines 
Float level in a sea of blue, 
Where dreamy smoke retires and lines 
The tree-tops with a pallid hue; 
Often there my thoughts are turning, 
Gladly would I cease all learning 
Could I but fulfill this yearning 
Old Home for thee. 

I can see the old-time dwelling 
Standing with an ancient mien, 
All its walls and columns telling 
Of a splendor now unseen. 
On the hill the oak-tops looming, 
In the sun the flow'rs are blooming 
And distill their sweet perfuming 
Old Home for thee. 

Weather-beaten is thy covering, 
On thy side the moss hath crept; 
Twitt'ring swallows gayly hovering 
O'er the chimneys now unkept. 



Boldly stands thy massive form, 
Defying still the raging storm, 
And my love grows ever warm 
Old Home for thee. 

Once was heard the healthy laughter 
In the first fresh hours of morn, 
And no slumberer lingered after 
Once had winked the eye of dawn. 
Joy there was in tilling soil, 
Sweet contentment followed toil 
And unknown was life's turmoil 
Old Home with thee. 

When flickers evening sun to gloom 
The cowboys o'er the meadows roam 
And through the valley's wild perfume 
The cows come drifting slowly home. 
Far adown the vale rings out 
The careless cowboy's mellow shout 
And all things wend their homeward route 
Old Home to thee. 

When at last the week was done, 
Came the day of holy rest, 
Father, mother, daughter, son 
Sought the old church to be blest. 



There the truth was simply told, 
The same old story as of old, 
And it did more love unfold 
Old Home in thee. 

In the pensive afternoon 
"When the leaves forgot their hold. 
Each with the other did commune 
And each that fell a story told; 
Then came the social talk of neighbors 
Talking of their rugged labors. 
Not of strife and bloody sabres — 
Old Home of thee. 

When the hours were speeding fast 
And the fire was growing low. 
When each flicker seemed the last 
And dying embers faint did glow; 
Then the Holy Book was read. 
From each heart a prayer said 
And each, happy, went to bed 
Old Home in thee. 

Today the basement's bare and still, 
Some spirit lurketh in its gloom. 
And the spider spins at will 
With no hand to stay its loom. 



Up the winding stairs I wander, 
At the top I halt and ponder, 
And I wish for those up yonder. 
Old Home for thee. 

But years ago they left us here 
To run the world as we might choose ; 
The old farm home they held so dear 
Was left for us to keep and use. 
But now we walk the busy street 
With worried brain and wearied feet 
And ever crave that dear retreat 
Old Home with thee. 

let me breathe the generous air 
And feel the wildwoods course my veins. 
There I can pray a natural prayer 
'Mid universal choral strains. 
And on that same familiar scene 
Where first set forth my life serene 
may my soul this vesture wean 
Old Home from thee ! 



Non Omnis Moriar 

COME, weary Soul! let not the course of 
Fret thy life ; revive thy sullen spirits ! 
Oft will the thoughtless age bedim 
Thy countenance, and in thy secret ease 
Oft wilt thou breathe a deep-drawn sigh 
To start the world anew. 
But come, live on ! thou art a princely heir ! 
Therein the world will ever envy thee 
And ever be a variance with thy life. 
But labor on, and only be thou true ; 
For earth can never know but half 
Of what thou wast, and even that 
It cannot understand. Some friend in tears 
Will say that thou wert brave 
And duty thy delight. Be that enough ; 
Some day thou shalt behold 
The purple of Elysian fields. 
And glim 'ring stars that through 
The silent tramp of years 
Have glinted dimly o'er thy head unknown, 
May smile and whisper soft 
Well-done, Eternity! 



To Mamma 

AH ! 'TIS a box from home, I said, 
A letter by its side, 
Whose lines with eager eyes were read 
And with a loving pride. 

The box I bared with joy supreme, 
And 'neath the top there lay 

Rich roses, red and white and cream 
In beautiful array. 

Then in a cup arranged with care 
Each floret found its room; 

Their rich aroma filled the air, 
Their smiles repressed all gloom. 

Meek couriers of love so true, 

I hold you doubly dear, 
Because the hand that nourished you 

Is my chief helper here. 

Had I but speech, ah then my tongue 
Thy beauty should declare ; 

Thy sweetness should not die unsung. 
Thou queen of flowers fair. 



But I feel 'twere better paid 

In my allotted days 
To see and feel what God hath made 

Than dream of pleasant lays. 

'Tis strange to me that there should be 
In God's fair world of flowers, 

One single soul that fails to see 
The glories which are ours. 

Beneath thy loveliness, sweet rose. 
There grows a piercing thorn, 

And yet thy face with gladness glows 
As though 'twere never born. 

Enwrapped within thy tender folds 
God's own thoughts hidden lie; 

Still in thy form mine eye beholds 
A sweet humility. 

Hadst thou been born 'mid desert air. 

Thy loveliness unknown, 
The world should still thy sweetness share 

On wandering zephyr blown. 

Thy stained petals soon must fade, 

Thy sweetness die away; 
But deep in my life thou hast laid 

An influence that shall stay. 



And I could choose brief days as you, 

To leave a fragrant breath, 
Than to my mission prove untrue 

When years should close in death. 

Then forward from this happy hour 

In hope I do confide, 
That as the pure life of this flower 

My own may e'er abide. 



Jes Keep Yer Heart Ready Fer T' Sing 

WHAT diffunee do it make if yer skin am 
Jes keep yer heart ready fer 't sing; 
Don't kerry it eronn' like a load on yer back 

Jes keep yer heart ready fer t' sing. 
When de agertater says dat you's treated wrong 

Jes keep yer heart ready fer t ' sing ; 
When he says you's a whole lot better dan yer 
Jes keep yer heart ready fer t' sing. 
When de polertishun says dat you orter have a 
Jes keep yer heart ready fer t' sing; 
When he pities yer condishun wid a great big 
Jes keep yer heart ready fer t' sing. 
Whut good it gwine ter do fer to hab de blues 

Case yer kaint be a gub'ner or a king? 
Jes go erlong and smile ease your chillun got 



Jes keep yer heart ready fer t' sing. 
Jes go erlong and ride in de Jim Crow khar 

An don' ax a nigger fer a thing; 
Jes look at de sweet-taters growin ' over dar, — 

Jes keep yer heart ready fer t' sing. 
Ef yer sees a nigger swingin' from a big oak lim 

Jes wait twel de judgment bells ring; 
Don' lose yer own 'ligion like de folks who mur- 
dered him, 
Jes keep yer heart ready fer t' sing. 
Ef de Angus' sun am hot and de row am long 

Jes think uv dat cool, sweet spring; 
Jes cheer de swetin' mule wid a whis'lin' song, — 

Jes keep yer heart ready fer t' sing. 
Dere's niggers in de East an niggers in de Wes' 

An niggers to de Norf dey bring; 
But de nigger in de Souf is de nigger dat's bes', — 

Jes keep yer heart ready fer t' sing. 
Nigger I don' keer if yer lip grows thick 

An yer hair twis' eroun' like er spring; 
De white man '11 help yer when yer bones git sick, 

Jes keep yer heart ready fer t' sing. 
Let er white soul shine thu de coal black skin, 

Buir er home whar de honeysuckles cling; 
When a po ' nigger falls jes pick 'im up agin, — 
Jes keep yer heart ready fer t ' sing. 



Dere 's a great day er comin ' f er de white and de 
When de chariot low shall swing; 
Dere's a bright light a-shinin' thu de heb'nly 
Jes keep yer heart ready fer t' sing. 



The Ancient Road 

FAR back adown the hazy years 
Grandfather 's face I see ; 
His stalwart form and kindly face 
Still lend a strength to me. 

Ah well do I remember how 

He toiled and planned and dreamed 
And lived for those he reared and loved, — 

How beautiful it seemed. 

And then when beautiful old age 

Wove a halo round his head, 
How sad my heart when first I heard 

The grand old man was dead. 

And then through long years by my side 

My dear old father walked; 
I still can hear the father voice 

As at eventide we talked. 



Through summer days when toil was hard, 
Through winter rains and snow 

He thought of me, he lived for me 
That I might worthy grow. 

Then unto him called Master Time 
From down the long, dim way; 

My heart again was taught to bleed 
When father went away 

And now I tread the age-worn path 

A dear son at my side; 
I toil and love, for soon 'twill be 

The stars and eventide. 

Ah, whither starts this ancient road 

With ancient signals marked? 
How many erstwhile eager feet 

Along its ways embarked ! 

And ever thus the road leads on 

'er mountain top and vale 
And no man knows the end thereof 

Where it meets the ocean sail. 



God what means this glad sunshine 
And then the sad, still moon ! 

What means this breath of buoyant mom 
And then the dark so soon ! 

grant us faith to calm the soul 

Along a way unknown, 
A manly faith to leave the world, — 

A mem'ry for our own. 




THE world hath simmered down ; all fact 'ry 
Have hushed their heavy hum, and twilight 

To bring me peaceful rest. Across the hills 
How sweet to stroll, to feel and deeply breathe 
The freshness of the dying day, and watch 
With swelling soul the grandly marshalled line 
Of colors bright that blend and paint the sky — 
To see the cloud-built isles that gorgeous stand 
Amidst the boundless lake of mystic gold ! 
Now slowly fades the sheen of light that spread 
Such splendor 'round this dazzling land of 

And all is gone ! 

Back to the quiet quarters of my room 
I stroll with random step and dreamy thoughts. 
As I revert and call fond mem'ry forth 
From hazy haunts where once she had her 

being ; 
When breathing low I hear her rustling wings 



And in a glance survey the winding road 
'er which my life hath slowly crept its way, 
Unbidden steals a prayer from out my heart, — 
A gratitude that through the shadowed ways 
My life hath moved untouched by sudden harm, 
And coming forth to sunlit places clear 
Can see some distance gained. But far ahead 
More brightly gleams the sun ; a richer air 
Surrounds the place; mayhaps thou'st traveled 

Life, but coulds't have gained that higher 

ground ,- 
But on thy way so oft hast thou forgot 
And dallied long with trifles at thy side. 
Full often hast thou erred, stupid Life ! 
Yet not so much in being what thou wast. 
But failing in the choice of higher things 
That lay within thy grasp. For this repent ; 
And so in days to come, when outward powers 
Would lead thee blindly forth to walk astray. 
Then stop, give ear to that the frailer man 
That shouts from far within thy calmer self. 
Where seated high o'er all, with vision clear. 
It views the world of action, sees the best. 
And cries * 'Accept!" so live by duty blest. 



In the New-Ground 

ri^ODAY I'm dreaming of the woodlands 

I Lying still in restful ease, 
Where the gentle warmth of sunshine 

Floats upon the sleepy breeze. 
There the toiler greets the morning 

'Neath the trees that span the hill, 
E'er the sunshine paints the heavens, 

And the stars are dreaming still. 

Here and there the trees are falling 

And a richness fills the air, 
And the smoke is lightly curling 

From the brushwood's lively glare. 
But the toiler feels a sadness 

As he clears the trees away, 
For evermore there'll be a strangeness. 

And things forget their younger day. 

'Neath the cedar in the hedgerow 

Rests the bucket in the shade. 
With its cooling waters waiting 

For the thirst that toil hath made. 



By its side the rugged worker 
Lays his long-worn, homely coat, 

And with stout heart braves the long day 
With a song of homely note. 

From yon treetop in the distance 

Bare and splintered 'gainst the sky. 
Sweeps a robin with a shrill note 

Wild and parting, ere it fly. 
Toward the new-ground swiftly steering, 

Soon it launches, light and free, 
Then with lonesome look and pensive 

Stately stands with dignity. 

Dear old robin, neat and trim, 

Playmate of the country child. 
Stepping all the livelong day 

O'er the hillsides fresh and wild, 
Well the toiler loves your presence, 

Loves your stately, cheerful look. 
As you lift an honest head up 

From some quiet, sunny nook. 

All the sunny hours you linger 

'Round the mellow, new-burnt fields, 

In your soft and pleasing plumage 
Harbinger of blooming wealds. 



And we grieve the time that cometh 
When no more your cheery chimes 

Can be heard about the new-ground — 
When you steer for other climes. 

When the shim 'ring twilight cometh 

Like the last faint, fading note 
Of some anthem stealing sweetly 

O'er a noiseless breeze afloat. 
Far to the rooky hillside rest 

The robin wings his dusky flight ; 
AVith coat on arm the tired toiler 

Whispers to his fields ''Goodnight.'' 



The Day That Is 

DEAR Life, 'tis well for thee, when strolling 
Through vernal woods, where once with leisure 

Thou lingered 'st long, to see engrafted there 
And deep ingrown, some things that make thee 

To call those dreaming years to life again. 
But better far if with unclouded eye 
Thou peerest through the years that are to be, 
And far beyond the things that near thee lie 
Some flick 'ring light, some guerdon thou ean'st 

see, — 
Some object glim 'ring in the dim unknown 
That beckons thee to hurry that which now 
Thy hands attend, and hasten hitherward. 
But better still if thou ean'st feel the force 
Of years that wide awake about thee stir; 
If in the hour that is, thine eye beholds 
The purpose of the past, the future end. 
mix thyself with that thine eye doth see, 



Thine ear doth hear, thy hand can touch and 

For then thou need'st not dream of what has 

Nor care for what the future may conceal. 



To Our Sweetgum Tree 

FULL many times when summer days were 
And o'er the fields stood trembling, summer air, 
We found our hats and wandered forth to 

The sweetgum tree stands bare to summer 

And when at once its cool shades came in 

With ever-quickening steps we hastened there, 
And with unsparing hand its bark laid bare. 
With searching eyes oft have I claimed the 

Of this side or of that. Though years have 

And things have changed, I see you, noble tree, 
And oft a sigh of sad regret have drawn 
That I have gashed your form so recklessly; 
And now you stand, in stretching field, forlorn, 
In ragged age, our dear old Sweetgum Tree ! 




SAVE us, Years, from shortsighted action, 
From trampling true beauty and life's 
sweetest part 
'Neath trade's busy sweep liand commercial 
distraction, — 
From feeling the purse and forgetting the 

Forbid that while years ever recklessly 
The nation should seek purest glory to 
"While selfish self-seekers debauch her in sin 
Then howl o'er her wretched condition. 



My Birthright 

OGIVE me the music and song of the 
The glorious sky-pictures at sunset unfurled ; 
Give me the breath of the fresh April morn 
Sweetened with dew from the deep shadows 
Set price on the showers that hasten the grain 
But leave me the rainbow and sweet scent of 
Harvest the grain which the warm rains 

have made 
But give me the whiff of its sun-sweetened 
blade ; 
Garner the rich wheat and hoard it away 
When I've seen it wave on a bright summer 
Ravage the red rose and sell it for gain 
When I've seen the sunset that glows in its 
Pluck the red apple and carefully store it 
But give me the breath of the blossom that 
bore it ; 



Take your broad acres and barns wMcli they 

While I watch the rise of the vale to the hill ; 
I've no heart to reckon your shillings and 

With the breath of the honeysuckle over the 
fence ; 
Fell the proud oak and the pine on the hill 
When I have passed under their boughs and 
stood still; 
Pull down the lightnings and harness their 

When I've seen them play through the storm 
of the night; 
Bridle the rivers and cause them to hush 
When I've heard the song of their oceanward 
Take thou the home, with its draperies gay, 
But give me the sound of the children at play ; 
Take all the finery, jewels so rare, 
But give me the smile of the babe over there ; 
Claim all the holdings and it will suffice 
If you leave me the words of a father's advice ; 
Seize all the wealth for which forefathers 

But leave me the pride of a strong brother's 



Filch what you may if you but leave to me 
A sweet sister's words and her fine sympathy, 
The glorious wealth of a blue summer sky 
That floats in the smile of a sweetheart's eye; 
Take the soft furnishings, carpeted stairs. 
But give me the worth of a dear mother's 
prayers ; 
Take it all, use it, and then pass it on 
But leave me the mem'ry of friends who are 
gone ; 
Thine be the world with its rich jeweled sod. 
But grant me the great saving spirit of God. 



To the Years 

(On my birthday) 

O YEARS, years, why slip you thus away 
And let me move unconscious of your 
flight ! 
Why make my days so swiftly chase the night ! 
Why bring before me ever on this day 
The stern command to stop, review, survey! 
Ye calleth back the gloam of early light, 
Some joyous sport, some half -remembered 

sight — 
The itemized account of each sweet day. 
Speed on, speed on, I make no anxious score 
But count alone the heart-throbs I have braced, 
The souls forlorn that drooped, earthworn and 

But v/ith resolve have lifted up and faced 
Grim life again. If such there be, no more 
I grieve ; nor should I have the years erased. 



A Moment of Rest 

STILL and low the wings of evening spread 
And fan the air into a feathery breeze, 
While o'er my spirit steals, with airy tread, 
A feeling strange as if by lonely seas. 

Trembling deep in yonder blue immense 

A pensive star in modesty retires ; 
The day is done, the sun is now far hence. 

The heavens glow with feeble sunlit fires. 

Upon the breeze there comes a soft refrain 
That leads my thoughts to wander and to 
roam ; 
The words are those of that familiar strain, 
That strain so dear, ' ' No place like home, sweet 
home. ' ' 

Emotions rise upon those plaintive airs 

And buoyant hope comes bounding, breathing 

Old memories come trooping o'er the years 
And scenes that once I held so beautiful. 



With book half closed, and head against the chair, 
I rock, and wrap my thoughts in floating 

My weary mind shifts every clinging care, 
And drifts away to some more restful theme. 

Far onward through the mellow twilight still, 
By rustling leaves in dreamy, restless sleep, 

I pass in rapid pace some haunted mill; 
It seems to call, and then in silence, weep. 

Through cool and shadowy woodlands swift I 
The sleepy streamlets breathing dull and low ; 
Watchful sprites and neiads guide their winding 
And seem to trace my footsteps as I go. 

All things are hushed. A melancholy trill 
Through dusky distance softly, faintly falls; 

Poor friendless bird! complaining whip-poor- 
Ever alone, and none to hear its calls. 

At last, how glad! my feet are quickly turning 
Towards a hill I long had pined to see ; 

And through the dark a lamp is brightly burning 
And there it seems to burn and wait for me. 



As I approach mid flowers and dewy grass 
And onward rnsh through yard and open door, 

Wliat grief to find, — ah me, alas ! alas ! 
My book had slipped and fallen to the floor. 



In Memory of Everybody's Friend 
"Marse Jim** 

(James Haywood Southgate) 

BACK to his mother earth who gave, 
Hath turned a giant son ! 
But e'er she wrapped him in her grave 

She found his task well-done. 
With towering brow and pond Vous brain 

He brought back days of old, 
When shepherd hill and starlit plain 
Built manhood strong and bold. 

Gone from our streets and from our halls 

The counsel of a friend, 
Who gave us hope and lofty calls 

And stood us to the end. 
His heart was like the big outdoors, 

His eye the glad sunshine; 
His voice seemed as the sea that roars 

A mystic peace, divine. 



He dwelt upon the sunlit hills 

Where God 's great winds go by ; 
He loved the rhythm of the rills, 

He loved the wondrous sky. 
The sweetness of the upturned soil, 

The fragrance of the hay. 
And rugged, honest sons of toil 

Made glad each closing day. 

The robin and the red-bird found 

A haven on his hill; 
He watched the field mouse in the ground 

And loved the daffodil. 
He loved the clouds that passed along, 

The lightning's flash and flight; 
He loved the gentle cricket's song 

When quiet filled the night. 

There was a generous fireside glow 

Within his cabin home, 
Where young and old might come and go, 

Where memory might roam. 
None can forget the genial smile. 

The bounding, inward joy 
He gave in that old-fashioned style 

''How goes the world, old boy?" 



He seemed a part of all we owned, 

The home, the church, the school ; 
Sweet charity his life enthroned, 

He lived the golden rule. 
On rostrum or at banquet mirth. 

At desk or mid the crowds, 
He lived with feet upon the earth 

And head above the clouds. 

Where'er he touched his mother earth 

She gleamed with beauty rare; 
He gave a rich and hallowed worth 

To land and sea and air. 
His was the universal life 

That knows nor time nor place. 
That struggles with a kingly strife 

To leave a manlier race. 



Lowering of the Class Flag 

(Tune: America) 

(This song has been used for several years by 
Trinity College at the lowering of the class flag, which 
is the last official act of the college year, coming at 
sunset on Wednesday of Commencement. The cornet 
sounds the call for the assembling of the Class five 
minutes before sunset. After assembling, the Class 
sings college songs. As the sun sets the college bell 
is rung, and every Trinity man is expected to remove 
his hat whether he is present at the exercises or not. 
The flag is lowered by the Class and turned over to 
the President of the College to be deposited among 
the archives of the College, and for future use by the 

HARK! the last clarion call 
Brings sadness to us all, 
Trinity ! 
Last vow of love we bring, 
Last song of thee we sing! 
Our hearts to thee shall cling 



Comrades, our day is done 
And with yon setting sun 

We say farewell, — 
Farewell to these dear halls 
Sweet lawns and stately walls, 
Farewell to twilight calls 

And lusty yell. 

Face to the western skies. 
Warm tears shall bathe our eyes 

For Trinity. 
Sweet memories entwine 
Around this sacred shrine 
And bind our lives to thine, 

Dear Trinity. 

Voice of thy mighty bell 
Sounds now its saddest knell. 

Stern Trinity. 
Let every son she bred 
Whose hungry soul she fed 
Now bare his reverent head 

And honor thee. 



Flag of our country free, 
Flag of our Trinity, 

God bless thy stars! 
Tattered thou mayest be, 
Still do we honor thee 
Proud sign of liberty, — 

Thy stripes and bars! 

Long live our Mother brave. 
Long may Old Glory wave 

O'er Trinity! 
Truth, honor, faith and love 
Ne'er from thy sons shall move, — 
Steadfast as heaven above 

To Trinity. 



My Charge 

GO SERVE the right in Heaven's name 
Expedience count but a foil ; 
To see the highest be thy aim, 
To hold the vision be thy toil. 

Go seek the truth whate'er it brings, 
Look not for ease, shun not the strife; 

Let not the instant need of things 
Eclipse the abiding worth of life. 



Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep 

THE mightiest power of human word, 
The gentlest music ever heard, 
Are found beside the trundle bed 
Where little children's prayers are said. 
Where little eyes at mother peep 
With ''Now I lay me down to sleep." 

This golden prayer of childhood's years 
Bids mother put away her fears 
And look with trust to that stern hour 
When baby comes to manhood's power. 
She builds a tower his faith to keep 
With "Now I lay me down to sleep." 

When after years shall dim his eyes 
And mother dwells in God's great skies; 
When life with joy and pain is fraught 
He hears the words that mother taught, 
And back for strength his soul shall leap 
To ''Now I lay me down to sleep." 



God grant, through tumult of the years 
To save this prayer and mother's tears; 
May little children everywhere 
At mother's knees learn mother's prayer, 
And every heart Thy ways shall keep 
Through ''Now I lay me down to sleep." 




WEALTH of a thousand cities 
Dream of elysian fields 
Land of rainbow yearning 
With fairy-petaled yields 

Birds from the fairest countries 

Gathered in a night 
Mixed in rare profusion 

Of plumage rich and bright 

Robes from a Persian palace 

Wings of the butterfly 
Glow of the borealis 

Tints of a sunset sky 

Nooks for the nymphs and fairies 
Soul of a song and dream 

Breath of an evening zephyr 
Glow of a glad sunbeam 

Eyes of the morning dewdrop 

Children of the stars 
Dreams of an azure heaven 

Blood from the veins of Mars 



Smiles of a baby's dreaming 

Draperies of the bee 
Love in an eastern garden 

Sleep of a peaceful sea 

Wild carnival of color 
To dazzle with delight 

To fill the heart with dreaming 
Of a jeweled heaven's light. 



Sabbath Bells 

O TENDER bells ! pleading bells ! 
From some enchanted clime, 
You seem as angels of the earth 
Breathing a whispered chime. 
You open the gates of a holy place 

Where new-born vows are said, 
You ring when the broken-hearted mourn 
For a life that the world calls dead. 

golden bells ! merciful bells ! 

With a heart for sinner and saint, 
Sweet charity dwells in your brotherly tone 

With never a word of complaint. 
Far out from the dark of the pagan land 

Too far for the wheels of trade 
There rises upon this Sabbath day 

A song that your voice hath made. 

glorious bells of the Sabbath day. 

Echoes of the Master's call 
From the domes of the heavenly table-lands 

Whence the dews of His mercy fall! 



The symbol of those voices high 

That wake to a higher toil, 
Those glorified oases here 

Which we cherish as sacred soil! 

bells of hope ! bells of love ! 

Not duty's stem commands, 
Exultant bells, death-conquering bells 

That waft from eternal lands! 
vain earth's selfish wealth and toil, 

The frantic grasp for things. 
When rising from the wild uproar 

This voice of the eternal sings ! 

Turn thou, mad and weary world 

To the rest of the Sabbath day, 
To her sacred bells, to her saving bells 

That echo along her way ! 
mystic bells ! yearning bells ! 

Such ne'er to the earth were given, 
The endless rhythm of thy tones 

Was caught from the bells of heaven ! 




I SCRIBBLE on my shirt and cuff 
Or ragged envelope, 
Upon the fly-leaf of a book 

Or on the kitchen soap. 
For fear the winged word may fly 

Or happj^ rhyme I lose 
I grave it on a dollar bill 
Or on my hat or shoes. 

And oft in zeal I scribble on 

Unmindful of the hour, 
Until today is yesterday 

And the muse hath spent her power; 
Then rush my pencil on to bed 

As vigil through the night. 
Lest e'er the dawn some thought hath fled 

And will not come to light. 

I keep the trap set night and day 
For thought and word and rhyme, 

And when perchance I stay away 
For any length of time, 



What idle joy to hurry back 

And in my easy chair 
To listen for the elfin track 

That may be stealing there. 

I scribble on the mantel-piece 

And on the stable door, 
In haste I seize my handkerchief 

Or write upon the floor. 
I fear lest I go writing mad 

And follow light or wind, 
Or catch myself a-scribbling 

On the cheek of some good friend. 




WE THANK Thee, Lord, for breath of 
For homes and fires and love ; 
For honor's gift and mercy's sonl 
And faith in God above. 

We thank thee that the heart of man 

Still feels a gratitude, 
That song still leaps from out his soul 

And prayer lives unsubdued. 

We thank thee for the buoyant hope 

That fills the future ways. 
For life that is and memory 

Of those fair other days. 



To the New Moon 

HAIL, hail, hail 
White ship of celestial seas ! 
Ah, whither come and what strange shores 
Have felt the quiver of thine oars ? 
What alien eyes have welcomed thee 
Along thy wide periphery? 
Hail, hail, thou glad new moon ! 

Hail, hail, hail 
Thou rugged sailor friend ! 
Faithful were thy pilots twain 
Guiding thee o'er sea and main; 
Welcome to our vesper skies 
As our friendly daylight dies ; 
Every heart leaps up anew, 
Glad to greet the face of you. 
Hail, hail, thou glad new moon! 



The Larger Light 

TO THEE, Sleepless Watcher of the years 
We lift our praise! Yet not for harvest 

For wealth of stores and all that traffic yields; 
But for the larger life they build, that rears 
Our thoughts to Thine. That love that ever 

The lily and the bird should shame our fears ; 
For if we heir life's gladness or its tears 
Beneath it all Thou art, and nothing wields 
Thine arm but love. Oft in Thy larger light 
Man's worshipped treasures are to Thee but 

His fancied wrong is but eternal right, 
His petty gain is but eternal loss; 
And though his spirit spend a bitter night 
The day-dawn finds an angel near his cross. 



The Campfires of the Angels 

IN THE dim, on-beck'ning distance, 
In the weird, strange wonderland, 
There a mystic glow enchanting 

Hovers o'er a silent band; 
Silent through unnumbered ages, — 

Not a whisper hath been hurled 
From the campfires of the angels 
On the outskirts of the world. 

In the long eternal gloaming 

Faithful vigil have you kept 
While vast hordes of earthworn trav'lers 

Passed along and laughed or wept. 
Looking up in wild-eyed wonder 

Where the glowing smoke-clouds curled 
From the campfires of the angels 

On the outskirts of the world. 

In the glamour of your far lights 
Hold the angels sweet concourse? 

Do they speak in heaven's language 
Of our life, its end and source? 



Do they chant of sacred mem'ries 
From an earthly scroll unfurled, 

Round the campfires of the angels 
On the outskirts of the world ? 

Glimmer on ye beck'ning shore lights 

Where the distant camp-ground lies, 
Where we see the bright sparks trailing 

Up the highways of the skies. 
Soon must fade earth's little daylight. 

And our chariots shall be hurled 
Toward the campfires of the angels 

On the outskirts of the world. 



To a Fallen Leaf 

HOW much of spring, how much of song 
Lie in your withered face, 
How many glad hearts passed along 

Your cool and shadowed ways! 
In your mute presence as I stand 

I feel a nameless dread; 
The breezes speak which you have fanned, 
Spring rises from the dead. 

You seem to speak of friends and home 

And how you used to live, 
Where birds and butterflies did roam 

And bees their honey give. 
O what a fairy world was yours 

'Mid rain and jeweled dew. 
When night-time sent her troubadours 

To chant their songs to you ! 

0, emblem of our mortal life. 

At the foot of your mother you lie, 

Unheedful of the wild wind 's strife, — 
For the life of another you die. 



'Twas the unseen root that kept you green, 
You helped make the tree and were glad ; 
You are building another glad springtime 
So why should I be sad ? 




ARMENIA! Armenia! 
A golden name is thine ; 
There's something in thine ancient soul 

That seems almost divine. 
What sacred heroes shine so fair 

Upon thine eastern hills, 
What destinies were cradled there 
Along thy quiet rills! 

What ancient names and hallowed creed 

Live through thy wearied toil! 
Thy storied hilltops nursed the seed, — 

The Christ-faith blessed thy soil. 
And yet thine old men grope thy ways 

Thy children cry for home, 
And through thy bitter, blood-stained days 

Thy helpless mothers roam. 

The cry of old Armenia sounds 
Throughout the ceaseless years; 

An ancient terror fills her bounds, 
Her heart with bitter tears. 



Her generations love their fields 
Their homes and honest work, 

But o'er her life there ever steals 
The shadow of the Turk. 

With sad and contemplative eyes 

And grief-swept soul and heart, 
What shuddering memories arise 

To tell thy bitter part ! 
tortured little Aryan band 

Who love their templed hills, 
What desolation marks thy land 

And all thy pages fills ! 

The rivers of thy guiltless blood 

Murmur a ghastly tale, 
And far across the crimson flood 

We hear thy suppliant wail. 
heart of our big-hearted world 

Speak from thy vaunted place 
And let this flag of death be furled 

From 'er this haunted race. 



Vesperi Lux 

WHEN the sun hath fled and the day 
is dead 
Give me the twilight stars, 
When life sinks low and I must go 
Along the lonely bars. 

Should the night be dark from my lonely bark 

As I travel the silent ways, 
Close by my side in that eventide 

May there shine the Master's face. 




METHINKS I see, far toward hesperian 
A goddess queenly fair, with searching eyes 
Benignant as the light of summer skies; 
About her brow a gracious care doth grow. 
Her calm and lustrous countenance doth show 
A promise vast and grand ; 'mid darkened skies 
Eadiant she stands ; within her grasp there lies 
A strength that none but flaming patriots 

Face toward the east, she lifts a peaceful hand ; 
She speaks, the voice of justice and of right! 
They hear her, men of every race and land, — 
Glad herald of the dawn of larger light. 
Fair Liberty, with grave and high command 
To free a fettered world from death of might. 



A Nation's Prayer 

O MIGHTY FATHER, changeless God, 
Whose love through all the years 
Hath blessed the paths which we have trod 

And calmed our faithless fears! 
Hear Thou a nation's fervent prayer 

On this her day of praise, 
Lift up the earth from grim despair 
And straighten all her ways. 

Take Thou this nation, young and strong, 

Build here a throne of right 
That shall forever spurn the wrong 

And scorn the boast of might. 
Build here for strength of coming days 

A land where greed shall cease, 
Whose ways shall all be righteous ways, 

Whose paths shall all be peace. 



At the Fireside of the Nation 

SEE them gather at the fireside! 
From toil's weary ways they roam 
Back where cheerful embers call them, 

Back where twilight turns them home. 
High have been the day's endeavors, 

Love hath led them on the way 
And a gladness fills the evening 
With the memories of the day. 

Cheer and hunger gather with them 

Where the evening meal is spread; 
Ease and leisure fill the hour 

With honest thanks for honest bread. 
Every heart is filled with kindness, 

Every face with sweet content, 
And the end of day is hallowed 

With a wholesome merriment. 

Father tells of honest trading, 

Of a good deal on the square ; 
Mother plies her thread and needle 

Near the table over there. 



Brother boasts of faithful horses, 
Sister of school honors won ; 

Little toddlers by the hearthstone 
Find their frolic and their fun. 

Now the little eyes grow heavy 

And the Holy Book is read, 
With her tender good-night kisses 

Mother tucks them in their bed. 
Then the quiet of the papers 

Of the magazines and books, 
And the news of many cities. 

Of the neighbors and the cooks. 

Mem'ry turns the pages backward 

To the stately days of old 
Where the uncles and the grandsires 

Braved the earth, gallant and bold. 
How the darkies of the old days 

Loved their master and his jest ! 
How his heart bled when he laid them 

Neath the quiet graveyard's rest! 

Then the tale of bloody trenches. 
Of the grim and deadly fight 

Where the wild and fiery missiles 
Give a terror to the night! 



Where the coming of the morning 
Brings but dark and dismal dread 

As the cold hand of the day-dawn 
Strokes the pale lips of the dead! 

ye god of shell and thunder 

Whose mad ear doth hear no cry, 
Call not these to terrors yonder 

Where young eyes look up and die ! 
Shatter not this peaceful evening, 

Ravage not this shrine of home 
Where a gleam of earthly heaven 

Steals from out the starlit dome! 

But if noise of war-like footman 

Sound along our homeland shores; 
Should the honor of her fireside 

Call us where the cannon roars; 
Up shall spring a mighty legion 

And the stars and stripes shall fly 
O'er the fireside of the nation 

Where her strength and honor lie. 



To the Yanks in France 

WE ENVY you boys, on the firing line, 
We covet your glorious chance 
To bear Freedom's sign far over the brine 

To the bleeding fields of France. 
sordid the task in the shop and the store 
When demons are murd'ring the world! 
May God guide our khaki through grapeshot and 
Till the banners of might shall be furled. 



Soldier Greeting 

AS THE wrinkled year brings Christmas 
And the sound of silver bells, 
We greet you lad in your khaki clad 

With old-time campus yells. 
May mem 'ries bright on Christmas night 

Make glad your soldier heart, 
And in your fight for freedom's right 
God grant the victor's part. 



To Our Boys Around the Campfires 

THE homeland fires are burning boys, 
Burning for you ; 
And homeland hearts are yearning, boys, 

Yearning for you. 
I see a noble pride arise. 
Beaming in Columbia's eyes 
While her old flag proudly flies. 
Flying for you. 

The eyes of the world are learning, boys, 

Learning of you; 
The heart of the world is turning, boys, 

Turning to you. 
You are pulling the rope to Freedom's bell 
For the sake of the things you love so well; 
At home we are lifting a cheer and yell, 

Yelling for you. 



To the Khaki-Clad 

HERE 'S to the lad of the trench and camp 
With his gun and a heart of steel ! 
We sing of the pomp of your martial tramp 

And the pride which your countrymen feel. 
Around the world old Liberty Bell 

And the glow of freedom's light 
Shall fire every heart with the message they tell 
Of your struggle for peace and right. 

So here's to your courage and manly cheer; 

You are gloriously brave, my lad! 
And here's to the stars and the stripes you bear, 

To Columbia's khaki-clad! 
We send you loud cheers and a lusty yell 

From the hills and the shores of home. 
With pride in your courage and faith in your 

Wherever your feet may roam. 



Voices of the Christmas-Time 

BELLS of Christmas everywhere, 
Old Santa Glaus a 'smiling, 
Mistletoe swung in the air 

Blushing maids beguiling. 
Face of every little child 

Beaming with delight, 
Dreams and fancies running wild 
Through the hours of night. 

Happy heart of Santa Glaus 

Gladdening all the earth, 
His nimble-footed reindeer draws 

Loads of Ghristmas mirth. 
Ten million little children know 

His graybeard and his smile, 
And on to early bed they go 

To dream of him awhile. 

Ruddy fires of dim twilight, 

Woods all white with snow, 
Sleighbells sounding through the night, 

O'er the hills they go. 



Trains go rushing on their way 

With gifts of goodly cheer 
And happy crowds go home to stay 

For Christmas and New Year. 

Shops and stores so full and bright, 

Shoppers full of glee, 
Streets ablaze with Christmas light, 

Hearts so glad and free. 
Mirthful sound of quilting-bees 

Along the countryside, 
Dazzling light of Christmas trees 

Floods the eventide. 

Through all the mingled voices glad 

That fill the festive earth 
Can there be voices low and sad? 

Could there be aught but mirth? 
Ah! through the distance comes a cry, - 

A mother with her child ; 
It comes from where brave fathers die 

In conflict mad and wild. 

peaceful plains of Palestine! 

hills of old Judea ! 
Ten thousand tender dreams are thine 

When Christmas-time is here ! 



Yon star that blazed o'er Bethlehem 
And stirred the shepherds' fear, 

With battle smoke is red and dim 
And Christmas-time so near ! 

Death flutters through thy peaceful air, 

It lurks upon thy sea 
And hides beneath thy waters fair, — 

The sea of Galilee. 
No more the sound of "Peace on earth," 

No more ''Good-will to men;" 
The mem'ry of thy manger birth 

Is hushed in hellish sin. 

Santa Clause before you bring 

Our sweets and gilded toys 
Go back where helpless mothers cling 

To homeless girls and boys. 
Go build the fires of home again, 

Let sound of shrapnel cease, 
And guide the steps of tortured men 

To homes of love and peace! 

[1 56] 


To the Sons of France 

HAIL, chivalrous brothers across the sea 
Who guardeth the paths of the world's 

liberty ! 
Peasant and prince heard the call of old France 
And roused from the lull of a long, haunted 

Brave as the lion when caught in his den 
Rose you like patriots, fought you like men! 
Firm stood your bayonet, bright gleamed your 

All the world honors the sons of old France. 



Our Times Are In Thy Hands 

GREAT GOD, the nations of the earth 
Are met in hellish clash, 
And only Thou in heaven dost know 

Where next their furies flash! 
The brave young blood of modern pride 

Lies filt'ring through the sands. 
But sweet to feel through storm of steel 
''Our times are in Thy hands.'' 

High in Thy heaven flies winged death 

With deadly thunder clad, 
And herds of shuddering men look up 

With desperate eyes and sad; 
The thunder roars, the smoke-clouds rise, 

But out from trench-gashed lands 
A dream-built might shall yield to right - 

''Our times are in Thy hands." 

Civilization stands aghast, 

Awe-stricken, breathless, dumb. 

To see her proud steel-pillared world 
To desolation come. 



The ground which ancient armies trod 

Again in terror stands 
Heart-sick at spoil of ancient toil — 

''Our times are in Thy hands." 

What dread catastrophe is this, 

What cataclysm wild? 
Doth Sodom's hardness hold the world 

From God's great love exiled? 
Doth God call nations to their knees ? 

No seer understands, 
But in this night we grope for light — 

"Our times are in Thy hands." 

The nation that forgetteth God 

Shall perish from the earth; 
So warns the ancient Book that points 

A nation's fall or birth. 
Adown the highways of the past 

Have sounded God's commands, 
But greed and ease man 's senses seize — 

''Our times are in Thy hands." 

We know above the dismal din 

Of cannon, shell and blood, 
A Master General views the fields 

Where ancient armies stood. 



He knows man's strength, He knows the end, 

He knows man's battle plans. 
In patience waits to judge his hates — 

"Our times are in Thy hands." 

Forgive where nations in their pride 

Unsheathed a guilty sword! 
Forgive where men in fateful haste 

Forgot their nation's Lord! 
And if this be Thy chastening rod 

To wayward, sin-cursed lands 
Where nations trod lost from their God — 

"Our times are in Thy hands." 



To the Men of the Golden Star 

I'M GLAD that you had the chance, my lads, 
; I'm glad that you had the chance. 
To die for the world 
Where Old Glory unfurled 
O'er the fearless fields of France. 

My heart leaps high when I think of you, lads, 
As you dared the dark demons of sea 
To join the brave line 
Where the immortals shine 
As the seal of the world's liberty. 

I'm glad that you fought with the soul of a man 
And died as a man should die, 

Where the hell guns jarred 

And the fight was hard, — 
That you rest where brave men lie. 

A thousand years might never bring 
A tale of fairer fame; 
Though you died in a day 
You shall live alway 
With glory on your name. 



Though hushed be the guns, and speechless 
the men 
Who fell 'neath the long, long trance, 
I can see them arise 
With a flame in their eyes 
At the sound of thy name, France ! 

Ah, sad, very sad, in these glad days of peace 
Not to shake your brave hand once more! 
That you could not come back 
With your gun and your pack 
For a glimpse of the homeland shore ! 

Proud stands your old Mother College today, 
Though sorrow hath touched her soul, 

That these nevermore 

Shall enter her door 
Nor along her old pathways shall stroll. 

She remembers your room, and the tree where 
you sang. 
The books which you read with delight, 
The sound of your yell 
When the heart felt the spell 
And the charm of a wonderful night. 



But she's proud that you had the chance, 
my lads, 
She's proud that you had the chance, 
To brave the onslaught 
For the things that she taught 
And to die for the world, and for France ! 



Shadow and Song 

FOR four long years black night had spread 
Her wings about the world, 
And men went weeping for their dead, 

The flag of hope half-furled. 
But deep within the soul of man 

There dw^elt a faith in right, 
And that it was God's final plan 
To give us back the light. 

Old England groans and Belgium stands 

Ravished on every plain; 
Italia guards her sun-kissed lands. 

Prance bleeds from every vein. 
America, bewildered, felt 

The call to right the wrong; 
She yearned as on her knees she knelt 

To save the weak and strong. 

At last there leapt across the skies 
From out night's darkened way. 

The smile of hope in morning's eyes. 
The long on-coming day. 



And heaven's cheek grew clear and bright, 

Awhile so wan and sad; 
The eyes of freedom flashed with light, 

The heart of the world was glad. 

God save from such another night 

And make us all akin, 
And grant that love's far-reaching light 

May light the hearts of men. 
Forever may her pinions white 

Rest o'er a peaceful world. 
Where mercy's touch shall banish might 

And the flags of war be furled ! 



How Hath the Mighty Fallen 

THOUGH slow to hear the universal call 
That knit in one the high instinct of all; 
Though slow from out thy slumb'rous ease to 

When liberty and justice were at stake; 
Yet thou did'st hear, and thou did'st answer well 
The call to end the earth 's black night of hell ; 
And having heard, and with high purpose set, 
How dare my glorious Country e'er forget 
The splendid vision and the sacred vow, 
Or e'er to sordid machinations bow! 
For thou did'st walk amid the sunlit hills 
And nations watched thee with a faith that stills 
The clamour of a frenzied world. 

But thou 
Did'st turn, and on thy clear, majestic brow 
A shadow fell, and back into the vales 
Went hope, where honor sits and wails. 
But there she cannot stay, for mountain heights 
Will ever beckon through the murky nights, 



And some day hence, her pinions white shall rise 
And gain again her vision of the skies. 
America, with heart so big and brave 
When action was so perilous and grave, 
Where is thy dream, whence hath thy vision fled 
Now that thy drums are still, thy heroes dead? 
Where is the flame, uplifted from thy hand. 
That resurrected hope in every land? 
Have honor, justice, liberty and right 
Passed from thy radiant soul before the night 
Could fold her wings and greet the glorious 

Have thy feet faltered on the earth's highway 
And thy once dauntless spirit, noble, free, 
Cringed 'neath the curse of base expediency? 
Shall Arthur's knights on far old Britain's 

Leave thee no heritage, or evermore 
Call out across the seas for knightly men 
With purpose high and kingly soul akin 
To keep the peace, to help and shield the weak? 
The very shades of Master Falstaff speak 
To see his mighty kin on instinct run 
Because somewhere in Europe hides a gun ! 
Shall fathers brave who rose as pioneers 
And flung their bone and blood on far frontiers 



So soon forget the white-souled sons who died, 
The tender tears where mothers knelt and 

Did thy brave sons 'neath poppy fields of 

Send thee no word, or fire thy sonl perchance, 
As home-bound ships drew nigh to homeland 

And turned the heroes home 'mid rapturous 

cheers ? 
Shall all the things which memory gave for 

Sink once again beneath a selfish ease. 
And hearts that met the challenge of the strong 
No longer feel the burden of the wrong? 
Hast thou no charge to keep the peace of men 
Which thou hast shed thy bravest blood to win ? 
Are we but moulders of the present day 
Soulless to those who tread the future way? 
Are those high things for which our spirits bled 
Vanished so soon, and buried with our dead? 
Where are thy dreams? was it a foolish heart 
That led thee up so high for such a part 
As thou did'st play? 

Awake, my Land, awake! 
Stretch forth thy mighty arm! forever shake 



This death-like pallor from thy stone-like face 
And once again from thy exalted place 
With vision lifted toward a glad, new day, 
Redeem the soul which thou hast flung away 
And rend in twain the cloud that veils the skies 
And burst the tomb where thy fair vision lies ! 



The Aftermath 

THREE millions and more of the children 
of God, 
Ye angels of heaven behold ! 
What hand would not sweeten the pathways 
they plod 
If the wheels of the world grow cold ! 
Breathes there a heart in this heaven-blest land 

With harvests that burden the field, 
That would not caress with a fatherly hand 
And from every hardship shield ! 

Along the dear pathways of age-worn Judea 

From the dim, shadowy days of the yore, 
A masterful voice, so calm and so clear. 

Seems to follow us evermore : 
''Suffer the children to come unto me," — 

Thank God for a friend in the heaven, 
When hunger and cold and bleak misery 

Are all that the world hath given! 



These children who lean on the merciful heart 

Of a war-torn world not theirs, 
Whose portion of fate is a bitter part, — 

Ah, the Master shall answer their prayers ! 
O heart of America, big and brave. 

When the charge was to shoot and kill. 
Their fathers are sleeping where you dug the 

And the children are crying still! 

There are Marys and Bills like to yours and to 


And their hearts are the light of the world, 

And we know, good Shepherd, that these 

are Thine 

Who were lost where the flags were furled. 

Ah, e'er we shall offer a thanksgiving prayer 

Or fondle our Christmas toys. 
Pray hurry our bread and not guns "over 
To earth's refugee girls and boys! 




C^OME, Gentlemen, earth's day is growing 
J late 

And all the way, as strangers at the gate, 
We've traveled on from war's first battle shield 
Unto the shame of yonder Plander's Field. 
Enough! 'tis time we knew each other now, 
And knowing, love ; in one world-binding vow 
Let man in sorrow for his ancient sin 
Say to the world that we be brethren ; 
And then in truth forswear the thought of 

And swearing thus, with willing heart disarm ; 
For soon or late the wrath of God shall rise 
On him who clothes high honor in disguise. 
If you, with light of ages in your eyes, 
And hearts now bound through sorrow's bitter 

Cannot lay down your arms, strike hands and 

''Henceforth we walk as brothers on the way," 
Then look not to your weaker kind to rise 
And shut suspicion from their blinded eyes. 



Just yesterday, with tender, prideful hand 
High spirits laid away in every land 
The deathless symbol of their unknown lad, — 
The world turned toward its mem'ries and 

was sad. 
Ah, will you, gallant sirs, now smite the cheek 
Of heroes, garlanded, who can not speak? 
Their fair hands braved death's treach'rous 

For what you now hold, pricelessly, in yours. 
They gathered from the ends of earth at sound 
Of bugle, and in honor high they bound 
Their lives and all for sake of one another. 
To die as one who dieth for a brother. 
Ah, shame we cannot live as such and be 
As neighbors in the bonds of unity! 
Not till our selfish competition cease 
Shall kindred nations find the light of peace. 
And each beloved land in truth hath shown 
We love each other as we love our own. 
Then shall our senseless wars be flung away. 
The relic of a shameful, savage day. 

Ah, Gentlemen, the heart of the world beats high 
For the brother-look within the other's eye; 


For simple trust; for friendly sacrifice 

That lives for others, and in living dies : 

That seeks no law or power through hellish war 

But gives its hands and power unto the law, 

Till that glad day when love of law shall move 

Our selfish hearts unto the law of love. 

God grant you wisdom for a manly part 

And give you through it all the brother-heart.